It's Like Wizard's Chess
by notisaidthefox
Summary: Rosetta Harper, in her fourth year, never once dreamed she'd get to talk to Fred Weasley, much less become his friend. And at fifteen, she's crushing on him hard. But remember: Dating is like Wizard's Chess. FredOC. INDEFINITE HIATUS.
1. Last Compartment on the Left

Rosetta Harper hurried to hug her brother and parents goodbye as the final whistle sounded, signaling all stragglers to board the scarlet steam engine known as the Hogwarts Express. She was a short girl, and not particularly curvy. Standing at just five foot two, she had small, narrow shoulders, a nearly flat bosom, covered by her thick Hogwarts cloak, but she did have long slender legs for her height. Her hair was long, nearly to her mid back in ringlets at the ends, black in color. Her eyes were a light hazel color and she had a small, slightly upturned nose denoting intelligence. Rosetta's lips were full and pouty looking, cherubic, and her eyebrows always looked as though they were frozen in a meek expression. Truth be told, she was a bookish girl, modest and shy, especially around boys.

"Bye Mum! Bye Dad! Thanks for coming to see me off, Ben!" she chirped to her parents and elder brother. "I'll write to you often!" she added as she planted a kiss on each of their cheeks in turn.

"Hurry and get on the train, Rosie," Ben chuckled. "Else you won't get to Hogwarts at all." She smiled one last time before she turned and marched onto the train, dragging her luggage behind her with her cat James mewling at her heels.

As she pulled her luggage along, she noted with dismay that all the compartments she passed were full. Her trunk was getting no lighter as she glanced hopelessly into each one, wishing that she could use magic to make it lighter. Unfortunately, Rosie was much too meek to risk breaking rules, so she trudged along. She was at the end of the car by this time, and she stopped at the last compartment on the left, praying there was a seat open. There was muffled laughter coming from inside. It sounded like a few boys having a go at Exploding Snap. Rosie swallowed hard. She wasn't very good at making conversation with boys, but she took a deep breath and slid the door open.

Her heart nearly stopped beating when she saw that mischievous freckled face and flaming red hair, the double of which was sitting on the other side of the compartment next to Lee Jordan.

"Hello there Rosie," Fred said cheerily, tossing her a wink. "Fancy a game of Exploding Snap?" Rosie opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out. He knew her name. He knew she _existed_.

"Fred, help her with her luggage first," George laughed. "Look how red she is from lugging it all this way." Rosie sighed in relief. If only they knew the real reason.

Fred jumped up immediately and grabbed her trunk by the handle, his face coming so close to her that she could feel the heat emanating from him. With the help of his twin, he shoved her trunk into the overhead rack. Rosie's hand tingled from where Fred's hand had touched hers.

"Th-thank you very much, but I could have—" she started, but George cut her off.

"Nonsense! Fred could use the exercise, seeing as how fat he's getting," he said, snickering a bit at his twin.

"More to love, I always say," Fred grinned. "Well come on now, sit down Rosie," he motioned to her, patting the space next to him as he scooted over to the window.

"Oh! R-right," she said hastily, plopping down next to him. Fred peered curiously at her, and she noticed with a sinking feeling that he could probably tell she was uncomfortable.

"Easy there, Tulip," he joked.

"He doesn't bite," Lee put in. Fred looked from Lee to Rosie, his eyebrows raised and a smirk on his face.

"Well, not unless you want me to, Dandelion," he muttered to her, putting an arm around her.

"Fred, there are children here," George warned, tossing a meaningful look at Lee. For a moment all was silent, and then the three of them burst into laughter. When Rosie laughed though, it was with a touch of nervousness. Her face burned so badly; she wasn't used to boys flirting with her.

Then again, Rosie wasn't complaining.

After the laughter subsided, she spoke. "Um… how did you… how did you know my name?" Fred smiled and nudged her lightheartedly.

"What, did you think you were invisible or something? 'Course I know your name is Marigold." At this, Rosie couldn't help but giggle, snorting quietly.

"Goodness George," said Lee with a shocked expression. "It's a pig that's been Transfigured! Quick, get her back to normal!"

George held up a hand, a sad look on his face. "No way, mate. Three years as a witch already, there's no way we can change her back now," he said solemnly. "Plus, she's much prettier like this," he added with a wink. Rosie blushed again, looking down at her hands that were folded neatly in her lap.

"Th-thank you," she said quietly.

Suddenly Fred squeezed her shoulder. "Oi, don't go hitting on my girl now, George."

"She likes me better," George said, batting his eyes at Rosie with a silly smile on his face.

"How about we settle this and just say I'm Lee's girl?" Rosie piped up, suddenly finding her nerve through a fit of ensuing giggles.

"No way," the twins chimed in together.

"Why not?" Lee asked incredulously.

"Because you're ugly," Fred replied, as though the answer had been obvious.

"Troll, really," George added.

All four of them burst into laughter. And as Rosie glanced at Fred out of the corner of her eye with his arm still around her, she thought that maybe this year with him would turn out to be something more than stolen glances from across the Great Hall.


	2. Up to No Good

The sumptuous Great Hall was, as usual, comfortably warm and cozy, the floating candles hovering over each table flickering merrily. The buzz of chattering students reverberated off the ancient stone of the castle, and here and there a ghost could be seen floating along. Rosie looked up at the storming enchanted ceiling with a smile. It was her favorite aspect of the Great Hall.

"Please be seated!" called Professor McGonagall's clear, sharp voice to the four of them.

"See you later, Daisy," Fred waved, offering one last grin as he took a seat next to George and Lee at the Gryffindor table. Rosie waved after him, hiding her disappointment with a smile as she plopped down at the end of the Ravenclaw table.

"Finally making some headway with him?" whispered Rosie's close friend, Meredith Langley.

"Bollocks I am," Rosie replied miserably.

"Oh, come off it," Meredith scoffed, brushing aside a strand of her ruler straight blonde hair. "All you've got to do is loosen up a bit. They're the notorious Weasely twins after all. You can't be afraid to break rules and still expect to win Fred over.

Rosie bit her lip. "I know, but… breaking rules just isn't me, you know?"

Meredith cocked an eyebrow. "Then what was the point of last year? Remember the hours we spent in the library looking up how to—?"

"Shh!" Rosie hissed. "It was only because of the accident!"

"And because Lawrence suggested it to keep you safe," Meredith reminded her. "He saved you, remember? Plus," she added with a grin, "I bet you were dying to figure it out."

Rosie shifted uncomfortably. True, she'd always wondered what it would be like, but it was not until that near death experience that she had decided to break the rules and go through with it, illegally no less. It had been extremely difficult, with more than its fair share of painful setbacks, but with the help of Meredith and Lawrence, she had finally succeeded.

McGonagall's voice rang out, sharp and clear, signaling the hall to quiet down. She led a terrified group of soaking wet first years to one side of the Hall, carrying an ancient, patched and dirty frayed hat to a stool. The Sorting was about to begin.

As each name was called and the students were Sorted, each House table exploded in cheers, cat calls and whistles. Rosie cheered along with the rest of her House whenever a Ravenclaw was added, but her eyes never left the Gryffindor table. Fred and George were surreptitiously poking their wands at pieces of parchment in their laps, which folded into airplanes as their wands made contact with them. Rosie smiled. Whatever they were up to, it wasn't anything good. In fact, she was so absorbed in watching the pair that Meredith had to elbow her in the ribs before she noticed the feast had started. Her stomach rumbled as she remembered how hungry she was, so Rosie tucked in eagerly.

When the feast was ended, Dumbledore stood, beaming at the students. He went through the usual start of term rules and notices, but when he mentioned that there wouldn't be a Quidditch Cup, Rosie nearly toppled out of her seat. She loved Quidditch, and had been vying for a match since she had gotten in her first year as a Chaser. There was nothing like zooming all over the pitch with the Quaffle under her arm, dodging ironclad Bludgers and fending off opposing Chasers to reach the three golden hoops.

Suddenly the doors of the Great Hall flew open. A large man with a heavily scarred face and an electric blue eyeball stood framed in the storm that was raging behind him. As he made his way to the Professor's table, a clunking noise resounded in the Hall; if one were to look closely, they would have caught a glimpse of a wooden peg leg ending in a clawed foot peeking out of his cloak. Whispers permeated the air around him.

Mad-Eye Moody.

Dumbledore introduced him as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, going on to explain that the Triwizard Tournament was to be held at Hogwarts that year.

"You're JOKING," Fred said loudly. The Hall burst into laughter. As Dumbledore chuckled and continued on, Fred muttered to his twin, glancing up at Rosie and tossing her a knowing smile. One of the airplanes they had made turned invisible suddenly, and then Rosie felt a small gust of air stir her hair. She looked up at Fred questioningly, and he nodded to her. Smiling a bit nervously, she brushed the plane with her hand and it reappeared, so she opened it under the table as quietly as she could.

Meet us down in the kitchen at ten o'clock tomorrow night.

Mystified, Rosie looked up at Fred again for further explanation, but all he did was grin.


	3. Disappointment

The next morning, Rosie woke bright and early, sitting up in her blue and silver dormitory bed. The sky outside the window behind her was a pale grey in the dawn, overcast from the previous night's storm. Yawning and stretching, Rosie went down to the common room, feeling wide awake. There wasn't a soul around; it was just the way Rosie liked the place. Slumping down in a cozy armchair, she curled up in the cushion, hugging her knees to her chest, burying her face into the silk blue pajamas she wore. A decorative floral pattern covered it, and as she traced over a flower, she smiled. At ten o' clock that evening, she would be meeting Fred and George in the kitchens.

Her heart beat just a little faster.

She looked up suddenly and smacked her forehead, cursing herself. Rosie had just realized that she had no idea where the kitchens were. With a sigh, she got up off the armchair and trudged back up to the girl's dormitory. Tiptoeing over to Meredith's bed, she shook her shoulder gently. The tall, slender blonde mumbled and shifted, opening her eyes a fraction.

"Wha' is i'?" she slurred in annoyance.

"You know how to get to the kitchens, right?" Rosie whispered quickly, trying to keep from sounding too hopeful.

Meredith squinted at her, bleary eyed. "Yeah… take the stairs down to the entrance hall, take a left to another set of stairs, and find the painting with the bowl of fruit." Yawning, she sat up. "All you've got to do is tickle the pear just right and you're in. Why?" You thinking of nicking some food this early?" she asked incredulously. Rosie seized the opportunity, nodding as sheepishly as she could, all the while burning the directions into her memory.

"Yeah, in the early morning I get rather peckish." As Meredith rolled out of bed, Rosie changed into her school robes, but as she did so, for some reason her eyes were drawn down to her trunk, which lay open at the foot of her bed. Amid her thousands of quills, ink bottles, books and other memorabilia from home, she spotted the brown paper package her mother had packed. She had told Rosie that she would need dress robes that year, for what Rosie hadn't a clue. Reaching carefully into her trunk, she unwrapped the package to look at the robes again. It was more of a dress really, but her mother insisted on the term 'dress robes' simply because to her, it sounded more elegant and proper. Her mother had taken her to a Muggle shop to pick it out, and they had both agreed that the one they had chosen was the perfect fit and style.

Rosie lifted up the dress, gazing admirably at it. It was strapless, styled like a corset with hundreds of tiny gems sewn into it, all of varying colors. Below the corset top, the dress puffed outward, but not too much; it was also embroidered with a few gems, sewn vertically at large intervals. When Rosie wore it, she really felt like a princess. The dress itself was a deep red violet color, old fashioned but nonetheless glamorous. A thin covering of black lace topped it all off. With a sigh, Rosie briefly imagined what Fred might think if he were to see her wear it. Would they dance together, somewhere out on the moonlit grounds, just the two of them? The night would be so still around them, crickets chirping as Fred would lean in closer, closer and then…

Rosie shook her head violently. She knew very well that there wasn't a chance in hell of anything like that happening. Then again, she could still dream. Carefully placing the dress back into her trunk, she took the steps down to the common room and exited the Ravenclaw dormitory; since it was nearing eight o' clock, Rosie headed down to the Great Hall for some breakfast, her schedule in hand and her bag over her shoulder. As she rounded a corner to take a final corridor to the Hall, she crashed heavily into a tall, lean figure.

"Watch where you're going!" snarled an unmistakable voice, loathed by all but a select few. Rosie stumbled back, tripping on the hem of her robes and falling most unceremoniously onto her rear, her school things flying out of her bag. She also heard a cracking, tinkling noise; her ink bottle had broken and was flooding her bag.

"S-sorry," Rosie mumbled as Draco Malfoy, the unspoken prince of Slytherin stalked past her. She got shakily to her feet, stooping to collect her things after casting a Scouring Charm on her ink stained bag. As she ducked down to retrieve a quill that had landed in the middle of the hallway, a larger, freckled hand snatched it up.

"I believe this is yours, Poppy," said an all too familiar voice. Rosie looked up into the twinkling navy eyes of Fred Weasley, fumbling for a reply.

"Y-yes, thank you Fred," she breathed, and as she accepted the quill from him, his eyes seemed to lock her gaze to him. Their fingers brushed briefly, and the corners of Fred's mouth curved into a smile.

"I was going to hex him as he turned the corner if he hadn't run into you," Fred said, stretching. "In fact, after he talked to you like that, I was tempted to curse him."

"Why didn't you?" Rosie asked, putting the quill in her bag and repairing her ink bottle.

"Well honestly, he's not worth the dirt under my shoe," Fred replied matter-of-factly. And anyway, I have something better planned for him," he added with a grin. "Mind if I walk you down to the Hall?"

"No, not at all!" Rosie said brightly, smiling eagerly. "But where's George?" she asked. "Aren't you guys always together?"

"Well, Poinsettia," Fred said airily as he draped an arm over her shoulder, "you may find this hard to believe, but I _do _have a life of my own." Rose blushed, embarrassed. Of course Fred and George weren't together all the time. She felt ridiculous for even thinking so.

"So Fred," Rosie said after a moment. "What do you and George need me to meet you in the kitchens for?" Fred grinned.

"Well, we need someone smart that we can trust." Rosie gave him a curious look.

"But there are tons of people smarter than me. Hermione Gra—"

"No, no," Fred cut her off. "See, she's smart, but we can't trust her. She's too much of a goody-goody. Probably rat us out for even trying."

"Trying what?" Fred winked and slipped away from her as they entered the Great Hall.

"You'll see."

For Rosie, the end of the day couldn't have come soon enough. Her classes had been dreadfully long, and Snape had given her class a particularly complex potion to work with. It had been difficult and she barely finished on time, with no comment from the snide Potions master as usual.

As Rosie padded quickly and quietly down the dormitory steps, she gripped her wand tightly, still dressed in her school robes. It was twenty minutes to ten as she exited the portrait hole, and once she was sure the coast was clear, she cast a Silencing Charm so that her footsteps would not be heard. Stealing down the first set of stairs, Rosie carefully avoided the one trick step and stuck to shadowy areas of the Hall. She was about to start down the last set of stairs when she heard someone else at the bottom. A cold panic gripped her, and she looked around frantically for a hiding place. Spotting a statue of Uric the Oddball, she dove behind it, holding her breath.

The dark, greasy haired head of Severus Snape rose into view, but he did not linger at the top of the stairs for very long. Unfortunately for Rosie, he turned and headed in her direction. As he drew nearer to the statue, Rosie's heartbeat quickened exponentially in her chest, it seemed. When he drew level with the statue, he stopped. Rosie couldn't tell if he could see her from her angle, but all the same she was petrified.

"Miss Harper, you really must work on sneaking around the corridors after hours," Snape drawled.

Rosie felt as though a bucket of ice water had penetrated her insides. For the first time since entering Hogwarts, she was breaking a rule—and really paying for it. She stood up, not daring to look him in the eye, instead concentrating on the floor in front of him. Swallowing hard, Rosie clasped her hands in front of her, bracing herself for the punishment.

"To my office," Snape said curtly, whisking off down the corridor in the direction of the dungeons. Rosie followed immediately behind him, her dread multiplying with each step. The more she wished that time would slow down and delay her doom, the faster it seemed to go. They reached Snape's office far sooner than she would have liked.

The hundreds of glass jars and bottles in his office housed numerous plants and animals, suspended in transparent gels and fluids, lining nearly every shelf save for the books he housed there as well. Snape sank slowly into the chair behind his desk. Rosie could feel his eyes burning into her, trying to will the truth out of her with intimidation.

"Sit."

So she did, looking down at her hands, which she had folded automatically in her lap.

"Tell me, Miss Harper," Snape said sharply, "what exactly you were doing behind a statue of Uric the Oddball." Rosie winced at his blunt and to the point question. She could see almost no way out of it.

"I…" she began, but her voice faltered. Rosie's mind was racing. _'Think. Think!' _her brain screamed at her.

"You what?" Snape prompted in a bored tone.

"I…" Suddenly a thought came to her. "I was coming from the Infirmary back to the Ravenclaw dormitory," she said quickly. "Julienne caught dragon pox and—" Snape cut her off with an upraised hand. "Yes, yes I know. She is in your year, and thusly your Potions class," he sneered. "But why visit her so late?" he asked, feigning a confused look. "Surely she needs her rest." The silky, delicate tone with which he spoke both unnerved and disgusted her. Rosie shifted uncomfortably, trying not to concentrate on his folded hands on his desk and the smug smile on his face.

"I would have visited her earlier," she said carefully, "but I was finishing some Transfiguration homework. It took me longer than I expected." She nearly breathed a sigh of relief at her improvisation, but Snape's next question foiled her once again.

"Then why not visit her tomorrow?" he asked simply. She could hear the triumph in his voice, like a cat that had cornered a mouse; it made her feel nauseous.

"Well I…" She paused, thinking. "I wanted to inform her of her missed assignments." There was silence for a moment, and Rosie felt as though she was waiting on her own execution. She looked up tentatively, and the look on Snape's face was sour.

"Twenty points from Ravenclaw, and detention tomorrow evening at eight o' clock," he snapped. "Get out of my sight." Rosie jumped out of the chair as though she had been sitting on a hot poker, nearly knocking it over.

"Yes, sir!" she squeaked, not daring to question the unfair punishment.

She nearly ran out of his office, bolting back to the girl's dormitory and her bed, where she trembled horribly. Rosie had let the twins down, most of all Fred. Her heart sank as she fell into a fitful sleep, her dreams full of jars with dead animals floating in goo, Snape's snide words, and most of all, the object of her secret affection, his voice echoing with disappointment.


	4. For the Love of Unicorns and Hippogriffs

Rosie was gloomy all morning. She picked at her breakfast despite Meredith's warnings of later hunger, suffering loud gurgling noises all through Charms. Try as she might, she couldn't mute her lime green Fwooper with a Silencing Charm, even though less that twenty four hours earlier she had done so easily. In Herbology the bowl into which she was supposed to be squeezing bubotuber pus was accidentally knocked over by a fellow classmate, nearly burning holes in Rosie's shoes as the disgusting yellow liquid splattered to the ground. Care of Magical Creatures was no better, her Blast-Ended Skrewt nearly lighting her robes on fire with its violent explosions.

When lunch finally came, she sank down onto the bench and rested her head on the table, her arms circling around her. With a deep sigh, she miserably recounted her day in her head, reminding herself that she had detention to look forward to that evening. That, of course made her think of how badly she had screwed up and disappointed Fred. In fact, Rosie was so upset with all the recent happenings that a few tears escaped her eyes. As she stubbornly wiped them away and tried to compose herself, she felt someone plop down next to her. She didn't know or care who it was; she wanted to be alone.

"Why so glum, Snapdragon?"

Rosie looked up slowly, sniffing and wiping at her slightly tearstained face. She couldn't believe it. She wouldn't. Why on Earth would he come to see her after she—in a way—had stood him up?

"What are you doing here?" she mumbled, not having the heart to look him in the eye, let alone speak clearly.

"Isn't it obvious?" Fred replied, raising his eyebrows as he surveyed Rosie's expression. "You're sad. I noticed. So, here I have arrived to cheer you up. Simple, really." He smiled warmly at her, squeezing her shoulder gently. "If it's about yesterday—"

"No!" she said quickly. "I mean yes—I mean—" With a sigh, Rosie shook her head mournfully. "I'm sorry," she finished lamely.

"Sorry?" repeated Fred incredulously. "Sorry for what? When I heard you got caught by Snape I felt awful! I'm the one who should be sorry," he said, looking at her in such a way as though trying to communicate just how bad he had felt.

Rosie gave him a twisted half smile. "No, it's not your fault… And later I've got detention, so—"

"No you don't," Fred said suddenly. Rosie looked at him, confused. As Fred's mouth curved into a smile, she felt a warm, comforting feeling spread throughout her. "I talked to McGonagall when I heard," the handsome redhead informed her. "She had a word with old Snivellus and got you off the hook. So," he continued, his face growing brighter every second, "let me make up for yesterday. Please?"

As much as Rosie's spirits had been lifted by the news, she still didn't feel that Fred was at fault, nor that he needed to make up for anything. "No Fred," she said calmly. "You don't need to—"

"Oh, but I insist," Fred countered, his freckled face seeming to become more and more triumphant each time Rosie tried to deter him. The young raven haired girl sighed in defeat.

"Okay then," she conceded, smiling reluctantly. Fred pumped his fist in the air.

"Great! Next weekend is a Hogsmeade weekend. How about we go there?"

Rosie nodded. "Yeah, but…" her voice grew soft, and she felt her cheeks redden as she spoke again. "Wouldn't that be kind of like…" Rosie swallowed. "A… date?" Fred tapped his chin thoughtfully and then shrugged.

"I guess it could be. Does that bother you?" Rosie shook her head, her ringlets flying about.

"N-no, not at all!" Oh, if only he knew. "It's just… we're not a couple, so…" Rosie let her voice trail off, feeling more and more awkward with each passing second.

"So what?" Fred said, touching her arm reassuringly. "It'll still be fun."

"I… I guess so," Rosie mumbled, shrugging.

"Aww, come on," Fred grinned. "You're fun to hang out with. I like spending time with you. You're not a prat like a lot of people around here. And," he added, drawing pink to her cheeks, "you're pretty. Not stuck up like that Parkison girl."

"All right, all right, I believe you," Rosie replied, raising her hands in surrender. She couldn't help but smile at Fred's triumphant smirk.

"Right, then. Now that I'm done shoving compliments down your throat, cheer up a bit, will you?" Rosie laughed. He was right, and she felt silly for being so negative when he was trying so hard to cheer her up.

"All right, I will. Just for you," Rosie said, hoping she sounded sarcastic enough. In all actuality, she'd do pretty much anything for Fred if it made him happy. But he didn't need to know that, now did he?

Fred raised his eyebrows, his smirk not diminishing. "Just for me, huh? I like the sound of that." Rosie felt her face turn so red that even her ears and neck felt warm. Luckily Fred didn't notice, because Lee called him over to the Gryffindor table. With a smile to her, Fred bid Rosie farewell.

Once he was gone, Rosie remembered her enormous appetite, and she started wolfing down everything within reach with a renewed vigor. The young girl had forgotten she had hardly eaten a thing all day. As she veritably inhaled a piping hot scone, Meredith plopped down in the spot Fred had vacated.

"Someone's cheered up," the blonde snickered.

Rosie snorted. "Yeah. Thanks loads for telling Fred about what happened. I told you not to tell anyone."

"Oh, for the love of unicorns and hippogriffs, hush," Meredith retorted, rolling her blue eyes at Rosie. "If I hadn't spoken up, you would have ended up spending an evening with Lord Greaseball. Besides, judging by your appetite, Fred did a fine job of cheering you up."

Rosie moved some peas around her plate with her fork. "Well, yeah," she said with a sheepish smile.

"Spill it. What happened?" Meredith asked eagerly. When Rosie mentioned the trip to Hogsmeade, Meredith squealed and hugged her.

"See! I knew he'd cheer you up! Now look, you two are going on a date in Hogsmeade!"

Rosie raised her eyes to the ceiling. "It's not a date, Mer. We're friends. Even though it'd be nice if we were together, I—"

"Bollocks, Rosie," Meredith cut in. "Use the opportunity to flirt a bit! He asked you to go with him, so get a little coy. Show him your fun side, like when you and I spend time together. Remember when we got thrown out of Eeylop's for charming those owl droppings to fly at the shopkeeper's head?"

Rosie smiled a little. "That was only after you threatened to use a Vanishing Spell on my clothes," she reminded her.

"Pish tosh," Meredith replied airily, waving her comment away. "You enjoyed it more than I did. So do the same with Fred. Enjoy yourself, okay?"

Rosie tried hard to hide it, but she couldn't suppress a smile.

The rest of the day seemed to whiz by. With her mood lifted, Rosie sailed through the rest of her classes, humming cheerfully through Transfiguration, her best and favorite subject. After classes were over, she headed to the library to make up for her sub par morning classes by studying, getting halfway through her Potions essay by the end of dinner. There was nothing that could dampen her spirits.

Or, at least, there wasn't until she encountered Severus Snape in the corridor on her way to the Ravenclaw dormitories.

Rosie stopped dead in her tracks as he addressed her in a menacing whisper.

"You may have _weaseled _your way out of detention, but I assure you, Miss Harper, that if I catch you sneaking around the corridors ever again, you will experience a far more unpleasant punishment."

The way he stressed the word 'weaseled' hinted not-so-surreptitiously that he knew exactly what Fred had done. Rosie dared not even blink as Snape stalked past her, his cloak billowing behind him.

Still, when Rosie turned out the light that evening, her dreams were warm and pleasant; instead of Snape's sneering face, she dreamt of warm butterbeer and Honeydukes, strolling to the Shrieking Shack once before returning to Hogwarts, all the while holding Fred's hand.


	5. Compromising Position

Only the trip to Hogsmeade kept Rosie going the next week. Although her workload doubled, she seemed to breeze through it despite Snape's glare looming over her in Potions class. Friday night, Rosie sat on her bed with Meredith, trying to pick out something to wear. Meredith picked up a pin green camisole with a tiny bow in the center, just below the chest area.

"Here, wear this," she said, tossing it to Rosie. Her counterpart raised her eyebrows skeptically looking from the item of clothing back to the blonde.

"Don't you think it's a little revealing?" Rosie asked, holding the top between her forefinger and thumb as though it were something deceased. "And it's not mine, it's yours," she added. "What if I get something on it?"

Meredith waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, don't be such a baby. Now is the perfect time to take a risk." Looking around for a moment, she tossed Rosie a pair of khaki pants. "And with luck," she added, a devious smile spreading across her face, "the only things that will get on that shirt will be Fred's hands."

"Meredith!" Rosie hissed reproachfully, throwing the top back at her as her face turned scarlet.

"Just trust me," Meredith reassured her, pressing the clothes into her hands.

So, Friday morning Rosie stood outside Honeydukes, dressed in the camisole and pants feeling enormously self-conscious but nonetheless excited as she waited for Fred. They had agreed to meet there because of the familiarity of the spot, and as Rosie stared down at her dark brown sandals, a cheerful voice called out to her.

"Oy there, Magnolia!" said Fred as he jogged up to her with a smile. He was dressed in long khaki shorts and a red shirt that brought out his innumerable freckles. As Rosie had never seen him in anything but his school robes and his Quidditch uniform, she felt her face redden as she beheld him. He looked good. Really good.

"Hi, Fred," she said, letting out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.

"Hey there," he grinned. Rosie shifted a bit as he looked at her for a moment. "Is that your collar bone that I'm seeing?" he asked jokingly. "I was expecting winter attire."

It was true that Rosie often dressed more conservatively than was necessary, so Fred's remark embarrassed her a little. "Well um… You look nice," she said, smiling to hide her discomfort.

"You look nicer," he replied without missing a beat, tossing her a wink. "Shall we?" Fred took her hand, leading her into the crowded sweetshop. Several students, though only those that Rosie vaguely recognized bustled about, standing on their tiptoes to see the varieties of sweets that Honeydukes offered. Dozens of hands rose up out of the mass to snatch Sugar Quills, Acid Pops, and Cockroach Clusters from the shelves.

"Look! Fizzing Whizbees!" Rosie said over the buzz of the crowd, pointing at a shelf farther away from the central hub of students. Fizzing Whizbees were her favorite. Rosie loved floating about as she sucked on them, feeling the giddy sensation it filled her with.

"Right then," Fred called back, moving for the shelf. "Allow me." Instead of using a Hovering Charm as he ought to have, Fred climbed up to try to reach a box of the sweets.

"Fred!" Rosie cried. "Just use a Hovering Charm!" She rushed over to the shelf, getting a bad feeling about the whole thing.

"Why take the easy way out?" he replied nonchalantly. "This way's more fun." Rosie grabbed his ankle in an effort to try to coax him down, but she only caused him to lose his footing and topple over onto her. And, as good looking as he was, he was a lot heavier than he looked. Rosie winced and let out a sharp cry as they landed heavily on the wooden floor. Blinking to recover her senses, Rosie's vision swan slowly back into view.

As Fred had fallen on her, he had made an effort to turn a little so that he could catch himself. The way he had landed put them in a very compromising position. Fred was effectively straddling her right leg, his hands on either side of her head. His nose was so close to Rosie's face that she could feel his breath tickling her skin. Her stomach turned; the shop had gone silent. Dozens of pairs of eyes pierced them, Rosie especially. She wanted to look somewhere—anywhere—else as long as it wasn't into the eyes of the crowd.

So, tentatively, she looked up into the deep blue eyes of Fred Weasley.

Rosie almost passed out where she lay. Fred's gaze pierced her with such intensity; she couldn't look away. His expression was so serious; it was uncharacteristic of him.

"Are you all right?" he whispered. Rosie swallowed hard.

"Mmhmm," was all she could say in reply; she feared that if she tried to truly speak, nothing would come out, or worse—and this was far more likely—she would say something other than 'Yes, I'm all right'.

Fred jumped up, offering Rosie a hand. As she got to her feet, she wobbled a bit—for obvious reasons—so Fred held her steadily.

"Oy, you lot," Fred said into the crowd surrounding them. "Did you know that every time there's an awkward silence, a gay baby is born?" As expected, the crowd burst into laughter, the oppressing atmosphere of a few minutes previous melting into nothingness. Still, Rosie wanted to get out of there.

"Can we go to the Three Broomsticks?" she asked, as she could think of nowhere else to go. Fred smiled, holding up a box of Fizzing Whizbees.

"Sure, but let me pay for these first."

Though Rosie protested, Fred flat out refused to let her pay for the sweets, referring to his gallantry as a mark of heroism. So, when they ordered drinks at the Three Broomsticks, Rosie offered to pay in return.

"Nah, I'll get it," Fred said, pushing Rosie's Sickles back across the table to her.

"Fred, please," Rosie pleaded.

The handsome redhead took a sip of the lemonade he had ordered, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "All right," he conceded after a moment. "On one condition."

"What?" Rosie asked, her glass halfway to her lips.

Unfortunately, it was then that a most uninvited guest showed up.

"So this is what you're doing when you're not littering the castle with Dungbombs," sneered Severus Snape. "Corrupting fellow students, Mr. Weasley?" he asked, a touch of venom in his voice.

"Actually," Rosie piped up, much to both Fred and Snape's surprise, "we were discussing whether you would look better in a pink dress or a purple one."

Snape's hands shook visibly with his rage, his face darkening as he glared down at her. The tension was so thick that it seemed to envelop the three of them, pressing in on them from all sides, much like when one Apparates. Just when Rosie thought she would crack under the pressure, Snape stalked away with a sweep of his cloak, clear out of the pub.

Once he was gone, Fred grinned broadly at Rosie. "Smooth," he congratulated her, raising his glass to her and inclining his head. She giggled.

"Thanks. What was that condition you were talking about?" Fred shook his head as he swallowed some lemonade.

"Nothing, I was only joking, Begonia." Rosie peered closely at him, but his expression was so relaxed that she couldn't tell if he was lying or not. With a shrug, she took another sip of her water.

Their last stop was the Shrieking Shack at the edge of the village. As they strolled down the worn path away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the town, a calm silence fell between them. They walked side by side, and suddenly Rosie felt Fred's hand brush hers. Glancing up, she caught a look in his eye that she could not quite identify. Remembering Meredith's advice, Rosie made her move.

Fred's hand was pleasantly warm against hers, though Rosie knew that her hand must have felt clammy to him. However, she dared not look over. Somehow, though, it felt almost natural to hold his hand like that, in a warm comfortable silence. In fact, Rosie felt so relaxed with him that it seemed as though only seconds had gone by when they reached their destination. They stopped, Rosie silently taking in the sight of the boarded up windows, cobwebs, and the darkness that must have lain inside, ominous but not necessarily threatening. She was so absorbed in the sight that when she came back to reality, her hand, where Fred's had been only moments before, was gone. As she straightened up, she blinked and looked around. Rosie needn't have worried, for in the next moment, she felt Fred's warm hands cover her own, his chin resting gently on her shoulder. She could feel his body, lean but firm against hers.

"Boo," he whispered softly into her ear. Rosie inhaled sharply as she felt the vibrations of his vocal chords against her skin. "Did I scare you?" he asked, pulling away. She fought the urge to sigh in disappointment.

"A little," she admitted, only then realizing how badly her heart was hammering in her chest. Fred checked his watch.

"We should be getting back soon."

"Y-yeah," Rosie agreed, flashing him a smile.

Still, as they made their way back to Hogwarts, Rosie could have sworn she had heard lamentation in his voice.


	6. Better and Better

Much to Rosie's surprise, Fred walked her all the way back to the Ravenclaw portrait hole. Only their footsteps echoed off the centuries old stone of Hogwarts castle. Rosie had expected him to crack a joke or two along the way, but Fred was surprisingly quiet. She thought that maybe he had something on his mind, so she decided to remain silent as well; that is, until they reached the portrait that guarded the Ravenclaw dormitories beyond. Rosie stopped and turned to face him, rubbing her arm with her left hand.

"Um… it was really fun to visit Hogsmeade. With you, I mean," Rosie mumbled, her voice echoing oddly in the empty corridor. Fred smiled good naturedly, stepping forward. The petite girl's heart fluttered in her chest. Was he about to…?

He pulled out a box from his pocket, holding it out to her. "Don't forget these," Fred reminded her, offering her the box of Fizzing Whizbees. Rosie exhaled slowly; it wasn't what she had thought, thank goodness. As she reached out to take the box, though, he pulled it away.

"Fred!" she whined, though she smiled as she continued to try to snatch the box from him. He took a step back as she took one towards him, but as Rosie moved forward, she stepped on the hem of her robes and fell forward, her forehead colliding with Fred's chin. He reflexively caught her in his arms so that she wouldn't fall to the stone floor. Rosie gasped, but thankfully he didn't hear. Against Fred's chest, though, she felt wonderfully warm and cozy; she didn't want to pull away, but she forced herself to straighten up and look at him.

"Easy there, Petunia," he said softly, that devil-may-care smile curving his lips. His eyes twinkled mischievously, and for a moment Rosie wondered if he had set things up just so that she would trip like that. She dismissed the though almost immediately, thinking that the very idea of it was ludicrous. Then again, not many would put it past him.

Straightening herself up, Rosie took the box of sweets from him; this time he gave them to her willingly. "Sorry," she said, her cheeks reddening, brushing away a lock of her hair. "First you fall on me, and then I fall on you. It's just—"

"You think we're falling for each other?" Fred suggested, grinning broadly.

"What?" she asked stupidly, but before Fred could say anything else, the portrait to Rosie's left huffed impatiently. "Oh, sorry. Guess I'll see you later?" she asked, giving him a hopeful look. Fred spun on his heel and waved back to her.

"When you least expect it, Blossom."

Rosie spent Sunday morning recounting—in detail—her "date" with Fred, right down to tripping in the corridor to Meredith. The two of them sat, as per usual, on Rosie's bed, Meredith sitting cross-legged and clutching a pillow to herself, still in her pajamas. Her eyes were bulging, as though trying to visualize and soak up every little detail. When Rosie finally finished, Meredith squealed and giggled like she was seven years old, at last getting in on a secret.

"I can't believe it went so well! I knew my advice would come in handy! One more date and you've got him, mark my words," Meredith chattered excitedly, rocking back and forth.

"Went so well?" Rosie repeated incredulously. "Were you even listening when I mentioned how awkward some parts of it were?" Meredith cocked her head thoughtfully.

"Hmm… Nope," she said cheerily. "Come on, think about the good parts! Like when he fell on you," Meredith grinned. Rosie blushed and threw another pillow at her.

"That wasn't a good thing! It was uncomfortable enough without the whole shop staring at us!" Meredith snorted.

"Bollocks, Rosie. You loved it."

Okay, so _maybe _Fred's warm, firm body falling on her in Honeydukes had been something of a treat for her. But was she about to admit to that? No.

"It was an awkward accident," Rosie said with a tone of finality, folding her arms and narrowing her eyes at her best friend since their first year at Hogwarts. Meredith smiled—Rosie knew that smile. It was the kind of smile that said 'I know something you don't know'—and she didn't like it.

"Well, if it was just an awkward accident, say yes to the next thing he asks you." Rosie looked at her, completely at a loss. It was definitely the strangest thing she had heard coming from Meredith—and she had heard a lot come out of her mouth.

"What are you on about?" Rosie asked, narrowing her eyes with suspicion. Meredith just smiled again, shaking her head and leaving the dormitory.

Curiously, Rosie hardly saw Fred—or George, for that matter—for the next few weeks, and that usually meant they were up to something. In fact, when she finally did run into them, Fred and George were sporting identical beards that nearly reached the floor. Her jaw dropped as they waved cheerily at her, looking like the fabled Muggle Rip van Winkle.

"Fred—George—what in the name of Morgan le Fay—" she spluttered, unable to even form a coherent sentence.

"That goblet can tell when someone's taken an Aging Potion," George explained. "Must say though, I think we look rather fetching with beards—don't you agree, Fred?"

"Definitely," his twin nodded. He looked to Rosie. "That's what we wanted to see you in the kitchens for that one time. We figured that with your smarts, you could think up a way to make us old enough without using a potion."

"Oh," Rosie said, blinking repeatedly as though she had just been Ennervated; she was quite taken aback and could think of nothing else to say.

"Well, we'll see you later, Bluebonnet!" George said, he and Fred turning the corner.

When Rosie got wind of Harry Potter being selected as a second champion from Hogwarts, and that subsequently he would be facing a dragon in the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, she was certainly relieved that the Goblet of Fire had rejected Fred. Just imagining him facing a dragon made her nervous. As she hurried down to the greenhouses for Herbology, imagining with nauseating clarity a dragon making a meal of Fred, she collided—once again—with Draco Malfoy, who was making his way back to the castle from Care of Magical Creatures. Again, her bag went flying, her books littering the emerald grasses of the grounds, Rosie's collarbone smarting a little from the impact of Draco's shoulder.

"Flat on your ass once again, it seems," sniggered the pale Slytherin prince, kicking her ink bottle which hit her squarely in the eye. She yelped loudly, covering her eye with her hand. Treading deliberately on her quills, parchment, and textbooks, Malfoy stalked towards her, pushing her chin up forcefully, making her look him in the eye.

"Good one," Goyle said with a guttural chortle as Draco surveyed the darkening mark around Rosie's eye. Rosie was surprised the ignoramus was even capable of speech. _'Must not be a complete troll then,' _she mused.

"Now you'll have a lovely black eye to match your hair, Harper," Draco sneered mockingly, smirking. Her eye definitely stung enough to make her believe Malfoy's words, but she forced herself to hold back any sign of pain.

"Shut up," she whispered, close enough to him that she didn't need to raise her voice.

"Excuse me?" he replied as though she was a servant disobeying an order. Rosie curled her lip in disgust.

Her clenched fist flew forward, connecting solidly with his crotch in a left hook that would likely fell a small troll. As Malfoy slumped to the ground, Rosie laughed with triumph, mentally thanking her brothers for all the years they had spent picking on her until she had learned to fight back.

Crabbe and Goyle just gawked stupidly as Draco lay moaning on the grass, curled in the fetal position. Without a word to any of them, Rosie picked up her things and headed to Herbology, and, despite a smarting soon-to-be-black eye, her day couldn't have been going better.

Rosie couldn't wait to tell Meredith and the twins, so when lunch came, she nearly skipped down the hall with glee, humming happily to herself. Bounding to her customary spot next to Meredith, she started chattering away before even saying hello.

"You_what_?" Meredith asked after recovering from a choking fit on her mint tea.

"You heard me," Rosie said with pride, clasping her hands tightly together as though the memory of the event on the grounds would disappear if she didn't. Meredith shook her head in disbelief.

"Maybe asking you to loosen up a bit was a bad idea," she smiled, sprinkling some salt on the plate of vegetables she was tucking in to.

"Bollocks, Mer," said a voice behind the pair.

"Best thing that could have happened to her," said a second, similar voice.

Both girls spun around in their seats to see the grinning twin faces of Fred and George, the redheads seemingly impressed with the story of Rosie's victory over Malfoy.

"Heard it was an excellent right hook," George said eagerly, mimicking the movie in air with his fist.

"It must have been a left hook," Fred corrected him. "She's left-handed." Rosie smiled modestly and nodded.

"Well then," put in Meredith, "how about we celebrate this momentous occasion?"

"In true Weasley fashion," George added.

"By meeting at the spot where the prat fell and holding a picnic," Fred chimed in.

"Ten o' clock?" Rosie piped up with a giggle.

"Ten o' clock," the other three replied.

For Rosie, things just seemed to be getting better and better.

Or at least, that was what she thought.


	7. Rosie's Secret

Rosie was excited at the prospect of a late night rendezvous with Meredith and the twins—but she was also petrified that Snape would catch her in the corridor again. When she confided her fears to Meredith, though, the blonde blew off her insecurities as though they were a lecture being given by Professor Binns. A little let down, Rosie holed herself up in the library to think up a way to get down to the grounds without being caught. Usually, the quiet of the library helped her think and cleared her thoughts, but the stone cold silence that permeated the atmosphere of the place that evening only worsened her nerves. There was just no way she could avoid it.

It was time to use her trump card.

Meanwhile, Fred George and Meredith were already out on the grounds, tucked safely out of sight between the greenhouses and the Forbidden Forest. Meredith set up a blanket as crickets chirped in the darkness, her wand alight as she surveyed her work. Fred and George were taking turns sorting the food they had nicked from the kitchens and keeping watch for Rosie, who had yet to arrive.

"Oi, Fred, look," George said as he straightened up from leaning casually against the glass wall of one of the greenhouses, barely visible in the shadows.

"What?" Fred replied, looking up from unpacking some custard creams they had taken with them in a sack.

"There's a little squirrel poking around the greenhouse door," George whispered, crouching down a little to get a better look at it. It could have been any color in such darkness, but the squirrel looked to be either a dark brown or black. As he peered closer at it, George noticed that its nose was a lighter color, pink maybe, and there was a lighter mark on its stomach. Closer and closer it crept to George, its large, liquid eyes looking at him steadily. Just as it was about to pass the greenhouse door, though, a rustling noise came from the direction of the Forbidden Forest. In a flash the squirrel was gone, scampering away into the night, and George made a cooing noise like a pigeon, signaling the other two to hide themselves and the picnic gear as well. George raised his wand to cast an Invisibility Charm.

"Lower your wand, Mr. Weasley, and perhaps I will consider letting you off with a lesser punishment than expulsion."

Minerva McGonagall emerged from the forest, clutching a squirming squirrel by its neck. "Miss Langley, Mr. Weasley and yourself will accompany me to the headmaster's office," she said, her voice dangerously calm. "Now." At once, Fred and Meredith revealed themselves. Even a fool could see that Professor McGonagall was in no mood for argument.

If it had been any other situation, the sigh of Dumbledore in bright purple robes and a night cap would have been comical. Fred, George, and Meredith sat quietly in chairs provided by Professor McGonagall, facing Dumbledore who was wearing a mild expression. The squirrel in McGonagall's hands was still squirming, though more feebly.

"Minerva, please release her," Dumbledore said, nodding to Professor McGonagall. "I believe she is well aware of the fact that she has been caught." The bespectacled woman nodded and placed the squirrel gently on the floor, where it sat up and looked steadily at the headmaster, its tail twitching. In the light of the office, its fur was most definitely black, and a grey spot was visible on its stomach, its nose a healthy magenta color. All eyes were trained on the small rodent; even a few portraits on the walls were peering down at it curiously.

"You were told not to abuse your freedom in this," Professor McGonagall said sternly to the squirrel. "The rules were laid out for you very clearly, were they not?"

The furry creature seemed to fidget on the floor.

Fred and George exchanged glances, looking from Dumbledore to McGonagall to the squirrel. They were completely lost. Fortunately, Dumbledore seemed to notice their confusion and he cleared his throat.

"I believe you have fooled your friends long enough, Miss Harper," he said kindly.

And so then did Rosetta Harper appear before them, looking down at the floor, shamefaced.

"Well that explains a lot," Fred said. Rosie winced. She knew it was a joke, but all the same it stung her, making her feel no better.

"Benjamin and I emphasized several times the importance of using your Animagus form in emergencies only, Miss Harper," McGonagall sighed, pushing her spectacles to a better position on her nose. "We kept you unregistered hoping you would abide by that very important rule." With her every word, Rosie wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. Getting lectured like this made her feel awful—being lectured like this in front of Fred was worse.

"Minerva, if I may interrupt for one moment," Dumbledore said politely. "I believe that the two Weasley's present deserve a little back story on this."

"You're certain?" Minerva asked him, raising her eyebrows.

"I believe that is up to Miss Harper," Dumbledore replied, his fingers steeped as though he was watching a very exciting Quidditch match. Fred and George looked at Rosie, who was silent for a moment before nodding.

Clearing her throat, she began her story.

"When I was twelve years old, about to enter Hogwarts, my family was attacked by a band of rogue wizards. We were in a shadier part of Pemberley, you see, getting back from visiting my aunt and uncle. It was only my father, Benjamin, Lawrence and I; Mum and Travis were back at home taking care of our school things while we visited. Dad and Ben were keeping a close eye on Lawrence and me, even though really the only one who could protect us was Dad, since Ben was still underage. We were just about to cross into Netherfield when they attacked.

"There were only two of them, but they Stupefied Dad so quickly that he couldn't have defended himself in time. Lawrence shouted when he went down, and Ben launched a hex at one of them. Of course, Ministry letters started popping up, but he ignored them. I didn't have a wand yet, so Ben and Lawrence were my only hope.

"Either way, one of the thugs shot some sort of burning curse at me, because the next thing I knew, I felt like I was on fire. My stomach felt like it was a volcano erupting from the inside. I don't remember much of it because it hurt so badly—I blacked out. The next thing I knew, Lawrence was shaking me and Dad and Ben were doing their best to patch me up.

"Now all that's left is this little scar," Rosie finished, lifter her shirt to show them an unremarkable white patch of skin, just above her navel where the curse had hit. "After what happened, Dad and Ben were really upset, and Lawrence was furious. So, when we got back to Mum and Travis, Dad convinced Mum to have me become an Animagus.

"At first, she flat out refused, especially since he said that he wanted me to be unregistered. But when he said that it would be for safety and emergency purposes only, she let up. But Mum refused to help me learn how to become an Animagus, and she wouldn't let Dad help either. So when Lawrence, Ben and I got to Hogwarts, Ben gathered books from the library with Professor McGonagall's permission so Lawrence and I could perform the necessary tasks. So… here I am," she said miserably, raising her palms skyward in helplessness. "I broke the rules and used my Animagus form when I shouldn't have and got caught. I'm so sorry," Rosie whispered, blinking back tears as she looked up at the twins, her heart sinking as she took in the serious expressions on their faces.

"So you've been an Animagus for about three years, huh?" Fred said after a moment. "That's a pretty long time." Rosie shrugged. She wished that Dumbledore would just get it over with—forbid her from ever using her Animagus ever again, expel her and then send her home. Professor McGonagall seemed to sense her thoughts, for she cleared her throat at that moment and folded her arms.

"Albus, I believe punishment is in order." Dumbledore blinked and gazed steadily at Rosie over his half moon spectacles, expressionless, it seemed.

"I believe a week's worth of detention should do the trick," he said cordially. "I'm actually more interested as to why you were haunting the grounds so late at night, Minerva."

Rosie, Meredith, Fred and George couldn't believe their ears. After all that, they were receiving just a week's worth of detention? It seemed too good to be true.

And, in fact, that's exactly what it was.

"The Draught of Guilt multiplies the negative feelings in the individual that consumes it," Severus Snape drawled, pacing back and forth in front of the twins, Meredith, and Rosie. "It takes five days to complete, one to settle, and one to fully take effect in the body of the drinker." His lips curled into a cruel smile. "I find the draught rather fitting—don't you agree, Miss Harper?"

Rosie squirmed under his gaze, but kept her eyes on her cauldron. Various shoots, powders, and dried objects lay beside each of their cauldrons, and instructions were written clearly on the blackboard. Rosie glanced to her right at Meredith, who was staring straight ahead with as blank a stare as she could muster, but Rosie could see her lips trembling ever so slightly.

"Miss Harper," Snape said loudly, making the poor girl jump and nearly spill her potion ingredients. "We will be testing the draught on you." He chuckled dryly. "After all, we have to be sure it works."

Snape strode back to his desk, taking a seat and folding his arms. He looked at each of them in turn, curling his lip into a sneer as his eyes skimmed over the twins. "Begin."

Rosie grabbed a handful of dried ivy roots and placed them in her cauldron. The very idea of making such a dreadful potion and then consuming it was sick and twisted in her mind. It was just like Snape. She already felt terrible because she had gotten her friends in trouble, dragging them down with her. _'Oh well,' _she thought bitterly. _'It's just what I deserve.' _For a few long moments there was only the sound of bubbling cauldrons and ingredients being shuffled about.

"Oi, George, pass me some of your powdered Mackled Malaclaw, would you?" Fred said airily as he stirred his cauldron. "Mine's spilled a bit."

"Certainly, old sport," George replied cheerfully, lobbing his bag of the powder to him behind his back, which Fred caught deftly.

"Cheers," Fred smiled, sprinkling a bit into his cauldron. Rosie, who up until then had stayed silent, gave Fred a surprised look. He, however, seemed perfectly at ease and even began to hum one of Peeve's ruder ditties to himself.

"Don't forget to add the Pogrebin blood," Meredith said to Fred, biting back a snicker.

"Oh yes, of course," Fred replied, pouring a little into his cauldron. "Charming blokes. Mum brought one home to see if it would teach our gnomes the foxtrot," he said, nostalgia in his tone.

"Bloody awful dancer, he was," George added.

Rosie couldn't hold it in any longer. She burst into a fit of giggles. Her snorting laughter soon infected Meredith, and in just moments the tears were gathering in their eyes.

"SILENCE!" Snape hissed. At once the girls' laughter ceased. However, it wasn't long before the twins spoke again.

"Fred, you're simply awful at this potion making business," George said as he glanced over at his twin's cauldron contents, which were an unsightly brown color and smelled of dung. "Sunflower's going to have to drink that, you know. Ought to be ashamed of yourself."

"Ah, deepest apologies, my dear Carnation," Fred lamented, bowing exaggeratedly to the girl. As he did so, he let his hand fly out in a flourish, knocking the contents of his cauldron to the floor where they hissed and bubbled. Snape shot to his feet, clearing the mess with a wave of his wand. His icy glare silenced the room once again.

"Have I mentioned," Snape whispered silkily, "that if not prepared properly, the Draught of Guilt will kill those who consume it?"


	8. Detention and a Date

The room suddenly felt as cold as Death itself as Snape's words echoed in Rosie's ears. There was no way Dumbledore would agree to this. Hell, there was no way_ Rosie_ would agree to this.

"Oh, don't worry," Snape said in a dry, mocking voice. "I will personally make sure you don't perish, Miss Harper."

'_What a comforting thought,' _Rosie mused sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"Unless you would prefer me not to?" Snape reiterated, noticing her eye movement.

"No, no sir," Rosie replied hastily. "I appreciate your… looking out for me." Inwardly she felt disgusted with her words—disgusted with Snape.

Well, at least she was serving detention with Fred.

So, the days ticked by with Rosie, Meredith, and the twins working carefully to complete the draught. As the four of them left detention on the sixth night, though, Fred pulled Rosie gently aside as they made their way to their respective dormitories.

"Look, Laurel," he said slowly, scratching the back of his head. For a moment he was silent as though fishing for the right words. Then he spoke again. "I promise that if that lousy git tries anything tomorrow—" Rosie silenced him by squeezing his shoulder.

"Fred, it's okay. Nothing's going to happen. Not when…" she trailed off for a moment, debating whether or not to utter her next words. An image of when Fred comforted her at the lunch table flitted across her thoughts. She smiled. "Not when you'll be there." Warmth spread across her cheeks as she looked up at him, despite her embarrassment. Fred smiled back, nodding.

"And hey," Fred said quietly, his smile widening. "After tomorrow's detention with old greasy pants, I want to ask you something."

Not having the faintest idea as to what he was up to, Rosie smiled shyly and nodded. "I'll be sure to give you an answer then."

Though her curiosity kept Rosie in a light mood the next day, when she entered Snape's classroom, her stomach was tying itself in knots. A small vial of the onyx colored potion had been prepared for her by Snape. It sat innocently on a stool in front of the desks they had worked upon, glinting in the torchlight. Snape snatched the vial up from the stool, offering it to Rosie as the others stood behind their desks, watching.

"Anytime you're ready," the Potions master drawled.

Rosie took the vial and, with her fingers trembling, uncorked it. Pinching her nose, she downed it in one gulp. The draught was terribly bitter and as cold as ice as it raced down her throat. For a moment she simply stood there, her face twisted in revulsion. Goosebumps spread across her creamy skin.

Suddenly she broke into a cold sweat.

Rosie was twelve again, burning from the spell cast by the rogue wizard. Then she was five, being lectured for wandering away in Diagon Alley. Her mother refused to let her become an Animagus; then she watched as Ben and Lawrence pummeled each other, each thinking that the other hadn't done enough to protect Rosie, their fists flying and bleeding from their noses and mouths. Her father William was pulling them apart. In Eeylop's she laughed as owl droppings flew at the shopkeeper's head; later her mother reprimanded her after receiving a nasty Howler from him. She crouched behind a statue of Uric the Oddball, her heart sinking as Snape's voice reached her ears. At lunch she cried and hardly ate, berating herself for being careless enough to get caught. Rosie flailed wildly in McGonagall's hands, knowing it was futile and that Fred was going to get in trouble along with George and Meredith. Standing in the center of Dumbledore's office, she confessed her secret, Fred's remark echoing in her ears. Hearing that if not prepared properly, the potion would kill her, made Rosie feel queasy. She stole glances at Fred from the Ravenclaw table, wishing she had the nerve to talk to him.

Then all at once, everything she had never said to him pierced her heart.

"Rosie! Rosie!" Meredith screeched, startling the girl to her senses. "Wake up! Please, wake up!" Rosie blinked slowly, her eyelids fluttering open. Her head throbbed—she must have hit her head on the floor, for it was hard beneath her. Meredith was kneeling at her side.

"What happened?" Rosie asked groggily, sitting up and wincing.

"You collapsed and started mumbling," Meredith explained, her face white as a sheet. "We could understand what you were saying and—oh, Rosie, are you sure you're okay?" Her baby blue eyes were brimming with tears, and she was chewing agitatedly at her lower lip.

"She'll be okay," said Fred's reassuring voice. He was on Rosie's other side, clutching her hand tightly, his face also devoid of color. George knelt next to him, a mirror image of his brother.

"Yeah… yeah, I'll be fine," Rosie said softly, getting shakily to her feet with Fred and Meredith's help. "Thank you all… for snapping me out of that." She shuddered at the very memory of it.

"The worst has passed," Snape cut in suddenly. "You will continue to experience feelings of pessimism and negativity for another twenty-four hours. Afterwards, you will return to normal. "He was standing off to one side; he hadn't made a move to help her—not that Rosie wanted him to be anywhere near her at that moment. "You are free to go," he sneered.

Rosie didn't need to be told twice.

Supported by Fred, even though she didn't need the assistance, she made her way slowly down the corridor. Meredith and George had gone ahead to the dormitories.

"Fred, I can walk perfectly well on my own—" she started, but Fred cut her off.

"Nonsense, Foxglove! Besides, I still have to ask you my question."

"Oh," Rosie replied, feeling foolish. She had completely forgotten. "What is it?" She felt a nagging in the back of her mind. Was this the question Meredith had been talking about?

"Would you like to go to the Yule Ball with me?"

Rosie stopped dead in her tracks, her face burning and feeling as though she might faint. Was he kidding? She was dying to go with him. Rosie, had her throat not closed up from shock, probably would have shrieked with joy. He was asking her, of all people, to go with him to the Yule Ball, the equivalent of a Muggle prom. Her vision swam as all of her mental fantasies flashed before her. Though her mind was racing and her senses were starting to reel, Rosie desperately tried to calm herself down. She didn't want to seem _too _eager.

"I'd love to," she managed to choke out, after what—to Fred—must have seemed eons. His face split into a grin so wide one could have likened it to someone receiving an exceptionally wonderful gift.

"Fantastic!" he said brightly as they continued down the corridor to the Ravenclaw dormitories. "I thought someone else might have asked you." Rosie burst out into incredulous laughter.

"Are you kidding? I'm the resident bookworm!"

"Next to Granger," Fred reminded her, snickering.

"Fair enough," she conceded as they neared the Ravenclaw portrait hole.

"Oh, and before I forget," Fred said quickly as she turned to step through the portrait hole. "What do your dress robes look like?" Rosie grinned mischievously at him.

"You'll know me when you see me."


	9. Part One: The Plan

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **I would just like to say to all of my reviewers and to all that added this story to their Favorite Stories and Story Alert list: Thank you SO much guys!!! I never expected this fanfiction to grab this much attention, though to some it might not seem like very much. I am immensely flattered that you guys enjoy this story so much. It really means a lot. It's truly been a joy to write, and I appreciate the constructive criticism and your appreciation of Fred's 'mistakes' with Rosie's name. But I really must stress something: As much as I dearly appreciate your enthusiasm for updates, please refrain from pressuring me to do so. I DO have a life outside of and the rest of the internet, which includes a part time job and AP Spanish homework, not to mention artwork I'm working on and a social life. So please, please bear with me when I say that I may not update as often as you all would like me to. On 8/12 I will be heading to Cedar Point, so I most certainly will not be writing anything, and probably won't for most of next week. I haven't even begun writing Chapter 10; in fact, I JUST finished Chapter 9 a few minutes ago. So please, respect me when I humbly ask you to not pressure me to update. Again, thank you all for your kind reviews and enthusiasm, especially RoastedGrover, who has offered very insightful reviews and encouragement. It seems that every Canadian I meet is really nice o.o Thanks so much girl!! Anyway, enjoy Chapter 9 everyone!!

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When Rosie closed the portrait hole behind her, she let out a high-pitched squeal and flailed wildly. She was going to Yule Ball with Fred. With Fred! 

"Is that you or is it your cat dying?" Meredith's head popped up from behind one of the armchairs. When she saw the look on Rosie's face, Meredith's lips stretched into a wide smile. "Did Fred snog you or something?" Rosie rolled her eyes, though her cheeks did turn a few shades of pink.

"He… he asked me to the Yule Ball," she said quietly, barely containing her joy. Meredith nearly vaulted over her armchair to wrap her in an enormous bear hug, emitting a shriek.

"I'm so happy for you!" she said as she nearly suffocated Rosie with her hug. "Just imagine," Meredith sighed dreamily when she released her. "The two of you dancing to a romantic song, you in your dress, and Fred probably in a suit of some kind. I bet you he'll try to kiss you."

The raven haired girl's cheeks turned as red as her namesake. "K-kiss me? You really think so?"

"Of course," Meredith reassured her. "How many times have I been wrong?" Rosie had to admit, there hadn't been many.

"But what if I—" Rosie started, but Meredith cut her off.

"No buts! Nothing can go wrong on Christmas Day." Rosie bit her lip. She did have a point. Plus, the ball falling on Christmas Day made it that much more romantic in Rosie's eyes.

"Are you going with anyone?" Rosie asked as the two of them made their way to the dormitories. Meredith shrugged.

"I think I'll go by myself. It's more fun that way." Rosie nodded. Whenever Meredith had a date or a boyfriend, she always ended up getting dumped or dumping them. Fortunately that was about all she had bad luck with. "It's you I've got to watch," Meredith smiled, pointing a knowing finger at her. "I'm going to have to teach you about dating." Rosie felt gloom—made worse by the potion—overcome her suddenly. She had forgotten that she had absolutely zero experience when it came to dating.

"No time like the present," Rosie mumbled halfheartedly as they went up the stairs to the girl's dormitory.

Despite the festivities that were to be held the following month, Rosie's workload only seemed to multiply. Still, she reminded herself, it was better than being one of the champions trying to sort out a golden egg that screamed when opened. Rosie had heard rumors that Harry Potter had been doing almost nothing to figure it out, which rather surprised her. Considering he had Hermione Granger to help him, Rosie thought that he'd be the first to discover the secret.

Rosie couldn't help but smile a little smugly to herself as she pored over _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi _in the library. So Hermione really wasn't such a brain after all. _'Probably got so frustrated that she gave up,' _Rosie thought. In fact, she imagined the brown haired girl becoming simply irate at the fact that for once, she didn't know the answer. Rosie twirled her quill between her fingers, staring down at her tiny script on a piece of parchment she was using to write an essay on the various uses of Mandrakes. Inevitably, though, her thoughts drifted elsewhere, to a redheaded, freckle faced boy with a mischievous grin. Smiling hopelessly, Rosie rested her forehead on her open book. Now that Fred was on her mind, there was simply now way she could concentrate.

"Bugger," Rosie giggled, straightening up and moving to put away her things. Then quite suddenly, a pale, bony hand snatched up Rosie's half finished essay.

"What sort of rubbish is this?" sneered Draco Malfoy, pulling away the parchment as Rosie tried to snatch it back. Oddly enough, Malfoy was without his trollish chums.

"Give it back!" Rosie hissed in a whisper, so as not to irk Madam Pince. The taller boy's pointed face twisted into an evil smirk. When he spoke, it was in a cool whisper.

"Let me copy it, or else your precious Freddie might have a little… how shall I put this… an accident? Perhaps a hex, maybe a jinx or two might… misfire on him." His eyes glinted with malice. Rosie's lips trembled, but she refused to back down, especially when Fred was involved.

"If you so much as breathe within twenty paces of him, I'll curse your wand so far up your ass you'd think it had always been there." It was no idle threat. Rosie had a knack when it came to complicated curses. Still, Draco Malfoy barely flinched.

"Is that a threat?" he asked delicately, craning his neck to study the small print on Rosie's parchment. His tone was idle, bored even. "I'm guessing you haven't made very many." Again, Rosie lunged for her paper, trying to take advantage of Draco's seemingly relaxed demeanor. She managed to grasp it, and was about to pull it away from him when he did something quite unexpected.

With his free hand, Draco seized her other wrist. He pulled it upward, rendering it useless, and all at once, Rosie felt his lips crash roughly against hers. He wasted no time in shoving past her lips with his tongue, which Rosie bit promptly purely out of reflex. Malfoy made a muffled noise of displeasure when she bit his tongue and pulled away from her She was utterly shocked and confused, but most of all she was revolted.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Rosie screeched at him, the very sight of him at that moment filling her with revulsion.

"I hate that you're such a goody-goody," he sighed regretfully, running his tongue over his lower lip. "But I just love it when you're furious." Shoving the crumpled essay into her face, he swaggered past her with a wink. "I figured you'd never kissed anyone before, but God, I didn't think it'd be that easy to ruin your first one." Oh yes, he had ruined her first kiss for her. Rosie was shaking with rage; she wanted to throw up, she wanted to slap Malfoy, she wanted to scream.

But now… now she was angry. And this kind of anger required more than a well aimed punch to the crotch to be extinguished.

After thoroughly cleansing her mouth of the taste of Draco Malfoy, Rosie headed straight to the Gryffindor dormitories. She had to talk to Fred and George, but more specifically, she needed a certain Creevey boy. However, when she reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, she realized that she didn't know the password. She let out a groan of frustration. There was no way her plan would work if she couldn't get Colin and the twins together. With a sigh, she slumped down next to the Fat Lady, hugging her knees to her chest. Rosie racked her brain for an alternative she knew would not come to her. She simply couldn't do it alone.

"Now I know that draught isn't behind that sad, pretty face of yours, Buttercup," said a voice above her. A long pair of legs clothed in jeans appeared before her, and then the figure crouched down in front of her.

Rosie's eyes lit up with joy as the freckled face of Fred Weasley beamed at her.

"Speak of the devil," she smiled. "Um…" Rosie hesitated. She wanted to tell him what had happened with Malfoy, but she feared his reaction. Then again, they weren't dating. But what if he blamed her?

"What's the matter?" Fred asked, snapping Rosie out of her downwardly spiraling thoughts. He cocked his head and raised his eyebrows. Rosie chewed her lip for a moment, and then sighing she told him what had happened in the library, and how she wanted the twins and Colin to help her get back at Malfoy.

"Well, he certainly is a lousy git for stealing your first kiss from you," Fred said after a moment. Rosie studied his expression carefully—did he look disappointed about it? His eyes certainly had lost a bit of their usual sparkle. "As for getting back at pasty face, George and I would be more than happy to make him look like the perfect ass for you. Leave Colin to us," he finished with a wink. "Your plan's brilliant, m'dear. Couldn't have thought of anything better myself." Rosie turned pink and smiled lightly. He had called her dear. She felt comforting warmth spread throughout her as she and Fred stood up.

"Thank you so much, Fred," Rosie breathed, moving forward and standing on her tiptoes to hug him. It was the first time she had ever hugged hi. Their bodies fit each other so well, she noticed. His shoulders weren't very broad, but they felt strong under her arms, and his arms that held her waist felt gently warm and protective. She didn't want to let him go.

Maybe one day she wouldn't have to.

It felt like only a moment had passed when Rosie reluctantly released him, settling back on her feet and resting her hands on his upper arms. She smiled up at him and moved to step back, but Fred's arms tightened just a little around her waist. Her smile faded into a look of confusion, but Fred just looked down at her reassuringly, a ghost of a smile gracing his lips for a brief moment.

"Fred?" Rosie whispered, but Fred shushed her softly. The girl's heart raced. Time seemed to be crawling and flying at the same time. Was he going to…?

"Fred, do you remember the password? I forgot it," said a meek voice behind them. The spell broke between Fred and Rosie, and the girl could have sworn she saw him wince as he pulled away and turned to face Neville Longbottom, his toad Trevor in hand.

"Well, it ought to be 'bad timing'," he said in an exasperated voice. From behind his back, Rosie saw Neville glance at her for a moment, turning red with embarrassment. Neville must have caught Fred's not-so-subtle hint that he had indeed interrupted something—or an almost something anyway. "It's _nettle bug_," he sighed, the Fat Lady's portrait swinging open. Neville scurried past him and Rosie, smiling in what seemed to be an apologetic way as he did so. Rosie nodded to him, turning back to Fred. He turned to face her, resting his hands on the back of his neck.

"I'll set things up with George and Creevey. Then all we'll need to know is where things will take place." Rosie nodded, smiling again, but all of a sudden it felt awkward.

"I'll… I'll see you later then," she said as Fred went through the portrait hole.

As Rosie walked back to the Ravenclaw dormitories, though, she couldn't help but wonder at what might have been.


	10. Part Two: The Plan's Execution

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Hello again everyone!!! I have returned from Michigan's Adventured, obviously. I didn't end up going to Cedar Point because of the weather, but it was still a blast. Unfortunately I'm rather sunburned, but at least I had today and tomorrow off from work anyway, so I had time to finish writing this chapter! I also had my dear friend AKissBeforeDying over, and she is a wonderful and highly talented person, do check out her work!! Anyway, about this chapter: This chapter has probably been one of my favorites so far, simply because of the... amusing things that happen. My favorite part involves Rosie and Fred in the Room of Requirement. I believe you'll know what I'm talking about once you get there :) Draco really gets what he deserves in my opinion. Lastly, the next chapter WILL be involving the Yule Ball. Yeah, I know. Finally. But have patience! When I have the time I'll write it up, and once I post it, I'll be conducting a poll, so watch out for that. Anyway, please enjoy this chapter and thank you all once again for your reviews and favorites!!

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It took Rosie the better part of a week and a half to set things up, especially when even the smallest error could mean serious consequences for her, the twins, and Colin. So, on a seemingly ordinary Wednesday evening, a seemingly ordinary appointment had been made by Rosie to gather Marcus Flint and Draco Malfoy in the Room of Requirement. She had told them to bring their broomsticks and Quidditch attire, for they were to be in a photo shoot. The pictures, Rosie had told them, would be for promotional and artistic purposes for next year's Quidditch Cup.

They had snapped up the bait quicker than a Thestral snaps up raw meat.

When Rosie stepped through the door, the Room of Requirement already had camera equipment and back drops; even a few flashy looking broomsticks and an assortment of Quidditch balls and gear were strewn about. She had arrived nearly and hour early to make sure she could get Colin and the twins in their positions.

"Remember," Rosie said to Colin before he wedged himself behind several boxes full of European Quidditch robes. "When I say 'bollocks', snap the picture." Colin smiled widely, giving her a thumbs-up.

"Will do, Miss Rosie!" Rosie nodded and turned to the twins.

"Remember to—" she started, but George cut her off.

"We know, we know. First we Stupefy them."

"Then we use Memory Charms on them so they'll forget about this whole affair," Fred finished, yawning and stretching with boredom.

"Right then," the girl smiled, casting an Invisibility Charm over them both. "Try not to make any noise, gentlemen, or the game's up."

Suddenly Rosie felt one of them squeeze her behind as they passed her. Turning scarlet, she lashed out blindly, though she failed to hit either of them. "Why you cheeky bastards!" she hissed.

"Been wanting to do that for ages," said Fred from a safe distance away. "Simply too tempting." The girl's face flushed crimson.

Rosie was about to tell him off when Draco Malfoy and Marcus Flint stepped through the door, looking equally smug and evil as usual. Both were in their Quidditch robes and were carrying their broomsticks over their shoulders. They made their way over to Rosie, who motioned them to a canvas backdrop of a Quidditch pitch, complete with a cheering audience and a score in favor of Slytherin.

"It's nice to see you've had a change of heart," Malfoy smirked, posing exaggeratedly with Flint as Rosie took shots of them with a magical camera, the device emitting small puffs of purple smoke each time the button was pressed.

"I don't usually let things get to me," Rosie replied through gritted teeth. She put the camera aside for a moment. "Now, Draco, lean over a bit… more, more… Good. Now Marcus, lean over him, and act like the two of you are both reaching for the Snitch, there we go. Hold it right there for a moment."

Draco was bent at nearly a ninety degree angle, his face twisted in concentration as his arms lay suspended in midair, reaching for a prop Snitch. Marcus was bent over him, his hips perfectly in line with Draco's tilted frame, one hand on Draco's shoulder and the other out and reaching for the Snitch. Rosie had effectively put them into a rather… awkward position, though they didn't realize it at the time.

"All right, just a moment," Rosie said, raising her camera. Then quite pointedly, she whispered in a low hiss: "Bollocks."

Colin jumped out of nowhere, snapping a photo of the two Slytherin boys before they even had time to release their facial expressions. Malfoy yelled and fumbled for his wand, elbowing Marcus back and away from him. The larger and stupider teen gawked in a troll-like fashion.

Right on cue, Fred and George shouted _Stupefy_!Both Draco and Marcus dropped like rocks to the floor, glassy-eyed. Rosie blew a huge sigh of relief as the twins high-fived each other and Colin cheered.

"Excellent work, Fred," George congratulated his brother, shaking his hand.

"Likewise, likewise," Fred grinned back, turning to Rosie. "Ah, the lady of the hour! Simply fantastic work, Jasmine! You're quite the actress."

"Yes, extremely convincing," George seconded, ruffling Colin's hair. Rosie smiled.

"Thank you all very much," she replied, "but don't forget we have to modify their memories."

"Righto, righto," George nodded, brandishing his wand. Fred did likewise. They made quick work of Draco and Marcus, depositing them far, far away from the Room of Requirement so that there was no chance of them finding it again. Rosie and Colin set to developing the picture and added captions at once, making several copies to post around the school. This time, though, there was no way the pictures could be traced to any of them, for Rosie had placed a clever hex on each copy. Anyone who tried to take the picture to a teacher would cause it to disintegrate into dust, and if a teacher laid a hand on it, it would do the same. Yes, Rosie had to admit that she had done a fine job executing her plan, for in the next week, it showed.

"I told you before, that picture's a scam!" Draco Malfoy snarled at a group of first years pointing and giggling at a large, blown up and animated picture of his submissive position. The caption read: _'Scandalous Rendezvous: Malfoy and Flint to Come Out to the School?'_

The blonde snatched the photo from the first years, igniting it with his wand. Try as he might, he couldn't remember ever meeting with Flint on any occasion, but neither could he prove that he hadn't—not with all the gaudy pin-up like posters of the two of them. To put it simply: Malfoy was seething, and he didn't know who to blame. He wanted something to be done, but with the pictures disintegrating every time he tried to take them to a teacher, there was just nothing the pampered prince could do.

Far, far removed from the buzzing hallways, Fred, George, Rosie and Colin sat around the cozy common room of the Gryffindor dormitories, laughing and joking about Rosie's genius plan, the execution of which had been flawless in all their eyes.

"To Rosie!" Colin cheered, raising a bottle of butterbeer.

"Cheers," George said heartily.

"Amen to that," Fred grinned, all four of them clinking their bottles together.

"Thanks," said Rosie, smiling modestly. She took a sip of her butterbeer, the warm contents of which made her feel even more relaxed. So relaxed was she that she began to feel a little woozy, tipsy even though her drink contained no alcohol—unless the twins had spiked it, which wasn't likely.

"Easy there, Morning Glory," Fred chuckled as she hiccupped, patting her shoulder. "Think you should head back to your common room?" He was a little concerned, as Rosie had never been so… drunk looking. There wasn't even alcohol involved. Fred made a mental note to not let her drink more than one butterbeer, ever. He stood up, looking pointedly at George and Colin, motioning to Rosie and jerking his head toward the Ravenclaw dormitories.

"Watch out for Captain Queer," George chortled, drawing a snort and a spray of butterbeer from Colin.

Rosie stumbled as she and Fred took side passages to the Ravenclaw dormitories, so as to not run into Malfoy or his cronies. Fred supported her firmly, his arm tucked carefully around her waist. They made their way carefully down each corridor. Rosie giggled and clung to Fred.

"Fred, you're so chivalrous," Rosie sighed dreamily. "Handsome too," she added with an uncharacteristic sly grin.

The redhead smiled and shook his head. "I appreciate the compliments, but I think that's the butterbeer talking."

"No, really!" Rosie said heatedly as they neared the Ravenclaw portrait hole. "I really…" Her voice grew soft and serious sounding. "I really l—"

"Rosetta Judith Elaine Harper!" Meredith shouted suddenly, sprinting out of the portrait hole to her. "What in the name of… Rosie, are you well?"

"Just a little tipsy, Mer," Fred reassured her, transferring Rosie gently into Meredith's arms. Rosie, however, wouldn't have it, and she clung to him, not wanting to let go, even trying to kiss his cheek. Fred pushed her gently back, smiling rather sadly.

"Sorry Geranium, but now's not the time," he whispered as Meredith pulled Rosie inside. When the portrait shut, Fred looked down at the stone floor at his feet, smiling disappointedly before turning and heading back the way he had come.

The next morning, Rosie woke feeling groggy. She rolled over in her bed with a groan, trying to fall back to sleep. Suddenly she sat bolt upright, the previous day's events spilling back to her memory. With a strangled cry, Rosie pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her hands on the back of her head in shame.

"Unbelievable!" she said to herself, her voice muffled by her position. Yesterday she had come far too close to not only admitting she was in love with Fred, but kissing him as well.

"I'm guessing you're never going to drink butterbeer again," Meredith said shrewdly with a yawn, sitting up in the bed next to her. Rosie whimpered.

"That's the least of it. I'm the world's biggest prat," Rosie said miserably. She felt Meredith squeeze her shoulder comfortingly.

"No, you're not Rosie," she said soothingly. "He understands. You weren't feeling well, and—"

"Now he probably doesn't want to go to the ball with me!" Rosie cut her off bitterly.

"Bollocks, Rosie," Meredith snorted. "In fact, he's wanted to ask you since he first got wind that there was going to be a ball in the first place! He thought he didn't have a chance with you, you know?"

"No chance?" Rosie asked incredulously, looking up. "What are you talking about?"

But Meredith refused to say another word about it. "Just focus on having a good time at the ball. It's the day after tomorrow, you know."

It certainly would be a night to remember.


	11. Every Dream, Every Desire

"Mer, my hands are shaking. I can't do this," Rosie whined as she tried unsuccessfully to dab eye shadow onto her eyelids. Her ringlets still hung limply down her back, though she sat in her gorgeous dress before a mirror, attempting to make herself beautiful.

But really, it was all for Fred.

Meredith took the tiny padded rod from Rosie's trembling hands, dabbing the red violet substance on the girl's eyelids. "Rosie, relax. We still have half an hour. Plus, Fred's not going to be worrying, is he?"

"Fred isn't a girl," Rosie pointed out, pouting at herself in the mirror.

"This is true," Meredith conceded as she proceeded to pin up Rosie's hair in an elegant fashion. "However, no girl is ever this worrisome, except you. So for goodness sake, ease up and wing it if you have to."

Rosie fidgeted, tapping her painted fingernails on her knees as Meredith finished with her hair. The normally drab raven locks had been pulled up and pinned high on the top of her head, a few of the ringlets left to cascade down to her shoulders. Also, a single ringlet hung from her hairline down to her chin, adding a playful touch to it all. Her earrings were simple, square cut and set with red violet gems. She wore no other accessories, preferring to look as simple and down-to-earth as possible.

Meredith pulled her up and stepped back to survey her handiwork, smiling and nodding in approval. "He won't be able to keep his eyes off you," she giggled. "Not that'd he want to," the blonde added with a grin. Rosie smiled shyly, tugging at her earlobe nervously.

"I'm sure Seamus will think the same of you," the raven-haired girl replied. "He's wearing blue to match you, you know."

The blonde smiled and twirled a curled strand of her hair with her index finger, even turning a dusty pink color. True, her halter dress was covered with innumerable sparkles in a baby blue color, but she didn't want to admit that she had gone back on her word and decided to go with Seamus. She gripped her small clutch bag and jerked her head towards the portrait hole.

"Well, shall we?" Meredith asked, a hint of excitement in her voice. Rosie stood up and grabbed her small handbag.

"Indeed."

The Great Hall was already filled with students from all three wizarding schools by the time Rosie and Meredith arrived. Meredith squeezed Rosie's hand, wishing her good luck before whisking off to find Seamus. Rosie took a deep breath as she gazed into the milling hordes of students, all dressed in a myriad of colors. Setting her jaw, she marched towards the entrance that would lead to the kitchens, which was where she and Fred had agreed to meet. She shuffled past groups of students, being careful to not let them tread on her dress, keeping her eyes locked on her target. When she finally reached the entrance, there were only a few couples haunting the place; it seemed as though Fred hadn't arrived yet. Rosie guessed he only had a few minutes before the champions opened the ball. She shifted from foot to foot, leaning inside the frame of the entrance as she now and then glanced down the corridor for a familiar red head of hair.

That was when she heard the echoes of cheeky laughter.

Rosie stood up a little straighter, craning her neck for any sign of her figurative princely jester. Her heart beat a painful tattoo in her chest, both from anticipation as well as fear. Her whole world seemed to be teetering on Fred's imminent arrival.

"Well hello there, Orchid."

Rosie gasped. There Fred stood, dressed in a smart black suit and tie, a red violet handkerchief sticking out of the jacket pocket. He was also holding a white rose in his hand, looking quite dashing to say the least.

"You look… really, really nice Fred," Rosie stuttered, feeling her cheeks grow warm. She took the rose that he offered her, its petals fading to a deep peach color. He took her hand, and with a grin he kissed it, the petals once again changing, this time to a yellow color.

"You look beautiful, dear," he said softly, his eyes warm and disarming.

"Thank you," Rosie breathed. "Um… what do the different colors mean?" she asked, as the petals turned to a pink color. Fred looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Well, peach signifies embarrassment, yellow for surprise, and pink for curiosity."

"What about red?" Rosie asked, sniffing the flower appreciatively. Fred smiled, his eyes twinkling knowingly.

"I think you'll figure it out."

They entered the Great Hall hand in hand, just as the lights dimmed and the champions opened the ball with their dance partners. Rosie watched as the four couples revolved slowly on the spot according to the mournful tune of the Weird Sisters, wishing that she and Fred could be out there, dancing with the rest of them. She couldn't help but wonder what it would be like; would it be like standard ballroom formation, one of Fred's hands on her waist, the other grasping hers in the air? Or would it be more intimate? Would he hold her against his chest, their arms around each other?

Well, there was only one way to find out.

As other couples moved onto the floor, it seemed that Fred could red her thoughts. He squeezed her hand, looking at her and then jerking his head towards the dance floor. Rosie nodded breathlessly, and the two of them slid onto the floor. Fred pulled her forward so that she came to rest comfortably against his chest. Rosie wrapped her arms around him, unable to hold back a sigh as she closed her eyes with contentment. She could hear his heart beating steadily. It was something Rosie found protective and familiar. She felt so warm, so safe with him holding her. It was as though nothing else existed. Fred was all her world was at that moment.

Fred's chest pressed against Rosie as he inhaled deeply, and the girl felt him stroke the bare skin of her shoulder with his thumb. Her grip on him tightened for just a moment. Could he feel her unspoken love for him? That she didn't ever want to let him go? That he was all she ever thought about? Did he realize how much he meant to her? How much she wished with each passing moment, that he would call her his own?

She opened her eyes as the song ended in applause and whistles. Rosie looked up at Fred, who smiled and rested his hands on her hips as they pulled apart. She hadn't realized what a good dancer he was until that moment, nor how calm he could make her feel. The music shifted suddenly, not letting either of them dwell on their thoughts as the tempo increased. Fred grinned broadly and spun her in a circle, pulling her close so that her back rested against him. Rosie giggled and moved with him, placing her hands on his, swaying to the pulse pounding beat of the music. The other couples around them seemed to move in a slow motion blur, each captivated in their own worlds. Rosie's heart raced, this time from excitement and the adrenaline rush the music imbued.

When the song ended, Rosie definitely needed a breather. She and Fred stepped carefully past frantically dancing couples to a table where refreshments were laid out. Rosie took a bottle of some fizzy strawberry soda, Fred opting for some lemonade. The pair took a seat at an empty table. In fact, several of them were unoccupied, considering almost everyone was on the dance floor. Rosie pressed her cool bottle of strawberry soda to her neck, fanning herself with her other hand. Fred opened his lemonade and took a sip.

"Having fun?" he asked with a grin. Rosie laughed.

"Do you need to ask?" she replied, taking a sip of her drink.

"Well, I wanted to hear you say it," Fred said with a wink. If Rosie's face hadn't already been flushed from dancing, she would have turned red. Instead she smiled and stuck out her tongue.

"I'm having loads of fun, thank you Fred," she said as she put the rose he had given her into her hair. It turned bright orange.

"I'm glad," Fred replied, settling back into his chair. There was silence for a moment, during which the rose turned blue.

"Hey, Fred?" Rosie asked, tapping the side of her bottle with her index finger. The redhead leaned forward, smiling disarmingly.

"What is it?"

"Why did you ask me to the ball?"

Fred gave her an incredulous look. "Why? Because I didn't want to ask anyone else." The rose turned purple.

"Oh," Rosie replied after a moment, flashing him a smile. It hadn't been the answer she wanted to hear, but it would suffice. "Um, do you want to go dance some more?" Fred's face lit up.

"Of course, Iris! Anything your little heart desires." He jumped up and led her to the dance floor.

There was no concept of time as the pair danced the night away.

When they left the floor again, it was nearing eleven-thirty. Fred suggested they take a walk onto the grounds. Rosie agreed happily, nearly skipping out the front doors, past the twinkling fairy lights and two suits of armor. Fred jogged after her, laughing in disbelief.

The night air was cold and crisp around them as they walked hand in hand down a path that had been lined with rosebushes. Their breath rose in puffs of white above them. Frost covered nearly everything, making everything seem to be coated with diamonds. Every now and then they passed couples sitting on benches or ducking behind rosebushes for more privacy. Rosie looked up to the sky, a million, million stars winking down at her. She couldn't stop smiling. Looking over to Fred, she saw that he was eyeing the darkness of the grounds beyond them.

"What is it?" Rosie asked, squeezing his hand.

"Want to slip off to the grounds for a bit?" he asked in a whisper, not tearing his gaze from the darkness. His voice was soft, but urgent—or was it pleading? Rosie couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there was something mysterious about it.

And Lord knows she's curious.

So Fred led her into the darkness, the night swallowing them in almost an instant. The frost covered grass beneath them crunched quietly under their feet. Rosie's heart was pounding in the midst of the unknown. There wasn't a sound other than their steps, the lights of the castle growing smaller and smaller. Where exactly was he taking her? When would they get there? What was he planning?

Almost as though he could sense her unspoken questions, Fred stopped. He turned slowly, his figure a dark navy color in the moonlight. For a long moment there was only silence. Fred raised his wand, muttering _Protego _under his breath, a bright milky shield surrounding them.

"What's that for?" Rosie asked as Fred pocketed his wand, slipping his hands between her arms to rest them on her waist. Her breath caught in her throat as he leaned down close to her face.

"Well, my dear," he whispered, trailing kissing from her temple to her cheek, "let's just say I'm tired of being interrupted."

Stars exploded in Rosie's eyes as Fred's warm lips captured her own. She froze, not knowing what to do. All her thoughts vanished. In fact, she couldn't have thought of anything if she tried. Time had stopped. Nothing existed for her except that moment, that moment with Fred, the man of her every dream and desire.

She took a tiny step forward, closing her eyes and slowly wrapping her arms around him. Fred's arms tightened around her as she inhaled, taking in exactly what he smelled like amidst the winter snow. There wasn't anything else in the world that she could ask for. Rosie's heart beat so fast that she was sure she would have a heart attack. Fred pulled back, but only to kiss her again. Somehow, Rosie relaxed and kept kissing him, the magic of it all remaining unbroken.

Rosie was never, ever going to forget that night.

When Fred finally pulled away and suggested they go back inside, Rosie felt as though she was glowing, nearly floating the whole way back to the entrance hall. Students were already winding their ways to their dormitories. Fred led her carefully through the crowd to the marble staircase. When they reached it, Rosie turned and faced Fred, grasping his hands and looking up into his sweet blue eyes with a smile.

"Thank you so much, Fred," she said. "I had a wonderful time with you."

"My pleasure, Daffodil," he replied, smiling as well. He leaned down to kiss her goodnight, but she turned away.

"I'll let you kiss me on one condition," she whispered.

"Oh? What's that?" he asked.

"From now on, call me Rosie," she laughed softly. Fred chuckled and turned her face to his.

"I can do that."

And once again, Rosie melted into his arms.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Chapter 11. Wow. The rose colors and their meanings are as follows: 

Peach: Embarrassment  
Yellow: Surprise  
Pink: Curiosity  
Orange: Happiness  
Blue: Nervousness/Fear  
Purple: Disappointment  
Red: Well... I'd tell you but I think you guys already know. Or you should anyway o.o

Fred's quote about being interrupted makes me swoon. Seriously.

And this isn't the end, trust me I still have to explain the meaning behind the story's title, so be patient.

**PLEASE READ: **As my senior year in high school is about to start, I will most definitely not be updating very often, so please, PLEASE be patient!!! In fact, I am only just today writing out Chapter 12, so please forgive me for my lack of updates. I've been extremely busy with balancing artwork, minor original oneshots, AP Spanish homework and most importantly my part-time job. It seriously consumes my daily life. But please know that I AM writing Chapter 12 at this moment, and am nearing completion of this fic, possibly, unless inspiration hits me. I will admit I've been throwing around possible ideas for a Pokemon fiction involving Gary Oak and my Pokemon OC. I've even started a picture of myself as a Pokemon Trainer, though my original character looks much different. Sadly I can't successfully emulate the Pokemon style.

Ah, but I ramble.

Just know that I'm going to be severely busy come the fourth of September, the beginning of school, which is just around the corner. Hopefully before then I will have posted Chapter 12 to appease all of you readers and reviewers out there until I write another chapter. It's just very tedious to write out each chapter and then type them up. I strongly reccommend keeping handwritten copies of your works just in case your computer crashes. I had a very bad experience with an original fiction of mine; I now write out EVERYTHING before I type it up. It also forces me to edit and search for grammatical errors within my writing as I type it, which benefits me.

Again, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU all for being so kind to read, review, and add my Harry Potter fiction to your favorites! I cannot express in words the gratitude that I feel to each and every one of you that takes the time to read and review each chapter. I sincerely appreciate in-depth critical and encouraging reviews; they keep me going and force me to look at neglected aspects of my work, reminding me that my readers do not necessarily see what I see when I write. Most of all I must thank my most faithful reader and reviewer **AKissBeforeDying **without whom I most likely never would have started this fiction and has been with me since the first chapter here on Fanfiction as well as on DeviantArt, where this fiction is also posted. She has been a wonderful friend and supporter of this fiction; I can't thank her enough for helping me through difficult times and difficult decisions involving this fiction. In fact it was only through her advice that I had Snape catch Rosie in the hall and give her detention, though the Draught of Guilt was completely my idea.

Here I must also state that I do not own any Harry Potter characters except for my own, which include Rosie, her aforementioned family, and Meredith. The Draught of Guilt was also my own idea, as well as the changing rose. I love each of my characters dearly, especially Rosie and Meredith, as I have put an ungodly amount of time and effort into developing them. I do hope that over the course of this fanfiction I am able to offer more history behind Rosie and Meredith's relationship, as well as Meredith's personal history, especially concerning her bad luck with men.

But here I must leave you, as I have a chapter to write and subsequently type.

**Updated 8/31/07**


	12. A Foreign Language

A still grey dawn greeted Hogwarts the following day; a fresh blanket of snow made the castle look much like a gingerbread house, only with far more towers and stairs. Even the Forbidden Forest, with all its mystery and foreboding seemed docile and even inviting in the morning stillness. Not a soul disturbed the grounds, though Hagrid's chimney puffed cheery blue smoke.

Rosie watched the grounds silently from the window above her bed, her hands pressed on the glass and her breath misting before her. She simply adored winter, especially moments like that one, sitting on her knees in her nightgown, appreciating the beauty of nature without disturbing it; she was by herself but not feeling in the least bit alone.

She let her hands drop back down to the warmth of her bed covers as they grew cold from resting against the glass. Quietly, Rosie slipped from her bed down to the common room, where a comfortable armchair and a few embers in the fireplace greeted her. Rosie lay nearly sideways in the chair, her arms resting on one arm of the chair. Her head rested comfortably on her arms as she stared into the embers, unable to suppress a smile.

Not that she wanted to, considering the previous night's events.

Rosie swore she could still feel her lips tingling from Fred's kiss—well, kisses. It had seemed like such a dream when it happened. It hadn't been perfect on her part, but nonetheless Rosie felt overcome with joy.

"Can you die of happiness?" she mused quietly to herself with a giggle.

For once, it seemed that life for our heroine was going perfectly.

The perfect fairytale.

"Oy, you've got a spot of mail this morning, Rosie," Meredith said shrewdly over the rim of her goblet, full of steaming tea. Rosie looked up from her toast to see several owls bearing an enormous box, which thumped heavily onto the table, knocking Rosie's orange juice to the floor as well as her fork and a few pieces of egg. Several pairs of eyes swiveled in her direction; Rosie sunk into her seat, her face on fire.

"It's… it's from home," she squeaked as she examined her mother's large, flowing script. Then a very tiny owl dropped an equally miniscule package on top of the box. It was shapeless and unremarkable, bearing no name or address of any kind. Mystified, Rosie stuck the smaller package into her robes pocket and untied the string that secured the monstrous parcel from her family.

"This is so embarrassing," she hissed miserably to Meredith as she opened the letter that lay on top of the box.

_Dearest Rosie,_

_We do hope your holiday is going well and that the Yule Ball was a delight for you. Ben sends his usual threat to any boys that take a fancy to you: _**Break her heart and I'll feed you to Mimsy the Welsh Green.** _Your father is getting good business now that the holidays are about, and I am hard at work Obliviating Muggles that have been unfortunate enough to stumble across the fairy population confiscated from a Muggle shop. It was probably that Mundungus Fletcher trying to make a few Galleons off of those poor people. Anyway, Ben, your father and I sent this out late due to the fairy incident and also because we wanted you to enjoy the ball. We send all our love!_

_Always,_

_Mum_

_P.S. Remember, dating is like wizard's chess._

Rosie's stomach turned with embarrassment. It was just like her mother to be offering her advice on dating. With a sigh, she stood up, lifting the slightly heavy package and proceeding towards the Ravenclaw dormitories. Wizard's chess indeed.

"Rosie, open it here!" Meredith whined, grabbing her sleeve. The petite girl shrugged her off.

"Absolutely not. If you want to see so badly, come with me."

So she did.

Rosie plopped heavily down in the middle of the Ravenclaw common room. Meredith sat down in front of her, eyeing the package. Unlike Meredith, who usually ripped apart wrapping paper, Rosie carefully peeled away the paper that protected the box, folding it neatly and setting it aside. Meredith sighed impatiently.

"Rosie, hurry up. The suspense is killing me," she whined. "And you still haven't told me what happened between you and Fred last night," the blonde added. Rosie's face flushed with color. There was a long pause.

"Later," she said after a moment. "I'll tell you later." Using the nail of her index finger, Rosie carefully slit the tape that kept the cardboard flaps on the box securely shut. Pulling the flaps open wide, she and Meredith peered inside. Rosie's mother, as usual, had placed each item in a neat and orderly fashion. The first article Rosie pulled from the box was a deep blue scarf, silver designs embroidered with a shining thread decorating it. The tassels were similarly twined with the silver thread. Secondly, she pulled out another scarf, this one plain, but a deep crimson color. Rosie folded each of the scarves and put them carefully aside. Next, she unearthed a deep forest green leather-bound book with gold trim and raised gold lettering. It was entitled _Advanced Transfiguration Techniques, Part One. _Rosie smiled. Her mother knew her all too well.

"Ooh, look! Exploding Snap and crackers!" Meredith squealed, pulling out a sizeable amount of the cards and crackers.

"And Fizzing Whizbees and Chocolate Frogs," Rosie added with a giggle.

"Look, there's one more thing," Meredith pointed out, reaching into the bottom of the box. At first Rosie thought it was just a plain marble board and velvet pouch, but when Meredith set it on the floor, she saw the shining black and white squares. The velvet pouch was also moving and emitting muffled cries. Meredith slid the box out of the way and pushed the board towards her with the pouch atop it.

"A… chess set?" Rosie said, mystified. She carefully pulled open the pouch, allowing the men to spill out and assume their positions.

"Certainly took your time!" one of the white bishops snapped up at her.

"Sorry," Rosie said hastily. "I was just a bit surprised." She could barely play chess, so she wondered why her mother would go to the trouble of buying her such a lovely set.

'_Remember, dating is like wizard's chess.'_

"Wizard's chess indeed," Rosie huffed suddenly. Meredith gave her a puzzled look.

"What are you talking about?"

"It's nothing, it's nothing," she replied, tossing the blonde a Chocolate Frog. Rosie stood up, gathering her things and placing them back in the box, leaving the chessboard in the middle of the floor as she went to put the gifts at the foot of her bed. When Rosie returned, Meredith had made the first move; the white pawn before the king had moved two spaces forward.

"So tell me about last night," Meredith smiled up at her from the floor. Rosie smiled shyly, plopping down across from her, ignoring the pleas of the black chess pieces for her to make a move. She recounted the previous night's events, all the while Meredith listened raptly. When Rosie was about to tell her about the kiss, though, she faltered.

"Go on, go on!" Meredith squealed excitedly. Rosie blushed, twisting a lock of her curled hair with her index finger.

"After he said that, he… he kissed me," she breathed dreamily.

"What was it like? Did he use any tongue?"

Her answer came in the form of a death glare.

"It was a joke, Rosie," Meredith explained. "You really need to lighten up." There was a short pause, broken only by the whining chess pieces.

"Hey, Mer? Does this mean that we're… you know… a couple now?" The blonde looked thoughtful for a long moment.

"Actually, I don't know," she confessed, shrugging. Rosie let out a groan of protest.

"But Mer, you're experienced in these kinds of things! Dating and I are like… like… " She struggled to find comparative words. "It's like a foreign language! I get lost in translation!"

The blonde could only shrug helplessly. "A few kisses don't necessarily mean you two are together. I suppose you'll just have to wait and see if Fred gives you a sign."

"Sign? What am I supposed to look for?" Flashing lights and trumpets appeared mockingly in her mind's eye. Again Meredith shrugged.

"Something that points you in the right direction."

* * *

Rosie turned Meredith's words around, over, and upside-down in her head until lunch, when Fred made it impossible for her to concentrate.

"What are you worrying your pretty little head about?" he asked, smiling disarmingly as he took a seat next to her. Rosie looked up at him and managed a smile, shrugging.

"It's nothing, just homework." Rosie felt guilty about lying, but then again, how could she ask him if they were dating without sounding so… blunt?

"Homework? How can you be thinking about homework! It's the winter holiday! Thusly, you should be enjoying yourself. Now," said Fred, lowering his voice slightly, "what do you _really _want to do?" His deep blue eyes shining in the candlelight made Rosie's stomach flip with butterflies. Fred's smile was so warm and inviting; it made the girl want to kiss him again, but she was simply too shy.

"Well," she said after a moment. "I'd really like to take a walk out on the grounds." Fred immediately jumped up and offered her his hand.

"Your wish is my command," he grinned, winking at her. Rosie giggled and took his hand. "To the grounds!"

The frigid air outside bit at their noses and ears, but they were dressed warmly. Rosie barely noticed the cold, as she was so entranced by Fred. A light snow fell about them, soon peppering Rosie's hair. They made their way slowly to the lake, which was inky black compared to the stark white snow around it. Hand in hand, they circled it, their breath rising in mist about them.

"Thank you for taking me out here," Rosie said after a moment, her voice sounding almost muted in the winter stillness.

"As I said before, your wish is my command," Fred replied, smiling and giving her hand a light squeeze. Rosie looked down at the ground for a moment, coming to a halt. Fred stopped a few paces in front of her, puzzled.

"Then can I ask you something?" she said quietly.

"What is it?" Rosie was silent for a moment.

"What… do I… mean to you?" she asked slowly.

Fred laid a hand on her shoulder, raising her chin to his face with the other. His brow was knit with concern. "Why are you asking me this all of a sudden?"

"Are we… a couple?" Rosie asked, not wanting to be deterred by his question. She pursed her lips, feeling guilty, but she had to know. At this, Fred's concern disappeared, replaced with a sincere smile. He slid his arms around her waist, planting a kiss on her forehead.

"We," he whispered, "are whatever you want us to be."

Such typicality, answering in such an ambiguous fashion. Still, Rosie wrapped him in a hug, at last satisfied. "Well then let me say that I would love to be your girlfriend," she whispered.

"It would be an honor, my dear," he murmured into her ear. Rosie could even hear the smile in his voice.

And not even the winter cold could suppress the warmth that filled her at those words.


	13. Had It Coming

**AUTHOR'S NOTE! PLEASE READ!:** Hello everyone!!! I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to post another chapter! Schoolwork and my job have really been consuming my life. I just felt that I needed to write SOMETHING for all of you before someone gets impatient and starts flaming or something. Here, as you can see, is Chapter 13. It's one of the darker chapters, though it the fact that it's the thirteenth chapter has nothing to do with it. Please enjoy this chapter, and CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS ENCOURAGED!! I'd really like to know what I'm not doing so well with AS WELL as what I'm doing well! Please don't be afraid to kindly point out mistakes! I'm only human, so I make mistakes! **Also, on a very important note: Please check out the story entitled "A Paler Shade of Misery" written by my dear friend A Kiss Before Dying. **It's a beautifully written story that she has put much thought and care into, but is severely lacking in reviews! So PLEASE go read and review her story, and don't put something silly like 'cool story' or 'nice.' Authors appreciate in-depth reviews. It lets them know exactly what the readers like and what they expect from the author, as well as provide them with another perspective on their work.

Well, without further ado, here is Chapter 13. Enjoy!

* * *

The Christmas holiday was nearing its end, and owing to the distraction of the Yule Ball, Rosie hadn't done much studying. So, over the last few days of her all too short vacation, she forced cram sessions on herself, bolting whatever food she could find in the few minutes she stole between studying and sleeping. Every few hours or so, she would relax in one of the common room armchairs, if only to allow her mind a chance to settle.

On one of these all-too-rare occasions, Rosie glanced at the chessboard that still lay in the center of the room. The white pawn was still the only piece that had been moved. Rosie stared at it pensively for a moment, her chin resting in her hand. She rose out of the armchair and sat on the side that housed the black pieces, which immediately started shouting and pleading for her to make a move. Rosie smiled and nodded, bidding the black pawn in front of the king to move forward two spaces.

"Let's see what Meredith will do with that," she chuckled to the black pieces. The miniatures cheered and offered battle cries. One particularly exited rook almost toppled off its square with glee. With a quiet giggle, Rosie got to her feet and returned to the girl's dormitory, once again becoming a slave to her studies. The next week was going to be hell for her.

As it turns out, that's exactly what it was. In fact, despite almost constant studying, Rosie failed her Transfiguration test. She failed a test in her favorite subject. At first, she was in shock.

"P… Professor McGonagall," she whimpered after class. "How did I… How did this… happen?" Rosie stood before McGonagall's desk, her exam threatening to slip from her nerveless grasp. The older woman offered a wry smile.

"I'm as surprised as you are, Miss Harper, You're one of my best students. I've no idea how this could have happened," she confessed, heaving a sigh and shrugging.

"Maybe I… maybe I studied too much," Rosie offered lamely. "The lack of sleep could have done me in." The bespectacled professor nodded to Rosie from her seat.

"Yes, that is quite possible. As for now, all I can suggest is that you study for the next test. This test set you back some, but it's nothing you can't fix. After all, the term isn't over yet, is it?"

Rosie offered her a weak, but conceding smile. For Professor McGonagall to comfort her so truly meant that the woman wanted her to succeed. "Yes, Professor McGonagall. I won't disappoint you next time, I promise." Again her favorite professor smiled, and Rosie left for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" barked Mad-Eye Moody to his enraptured class. The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws watched as he placed each student under the Imperius Curse, each with varying results, some comical and others more commonplace. Rosie, who stood toward the back right corner of the classroom, hesitantly stepped forward. She certainly wasn't thrilled to be next, especially after seeing Meredith perform complex acrobatic feats. Her insides squirmed as she heard some of the students snickering. She swallowed hard as Moody raised his wand.

"Remember, constant vigilance!" the wild looking man reminded her. It was odd hearing him say it so… soothingly, it seemed. "Right then, here we go. _Imperio_!"

Almost instantly, all worries vanished from Rosie's mind, replaced with a comfortable, detached and lazy feeling. She really didn't care about much anymore.

'_Dance with Nordstrom,' _said the professor's disembodied voice in her head, referring to a mousy looking, nervous Ravenclaw boy that was shunned by most of the other students. Almost immediately, Rosie felt her legs forcefully marching toward Harold Nordstrom, who looked very scared. It hurt Rosie to have her legs be moved like that.

'_I… really don't like this,_' said a timid voice in the back of her head. '_Stop. Stop it now._' But all Rosie could do was watch helplessly from behind controlled eyes as she took Harold's hand and waltzed about the room with him. Once she was released, she heard the laughter, jeers and cat calls of the other students. Her face burned with shame as she dropped her gaze to the floor, utterly mortified. Meredith put a comforting hand on her shoulder, but Rosie jerked away, sighing dejectedly when they left the classroom for lunch.

Rosie could only pick at her food. After botching her Transfiguration test and being humiliated in Defense Against the Dark Arts, she was in no mood for anything, not even lunch. With a cold, empty feeling in her stomach, she opened the Transfiguration book her mother had bought for her and tried flipping through it, but nothing caught her interest. Meredith, whom had witnessed her plight, had tried once again to cheer her up, but it was like trying to mix oil and water. Rosie just felt too awful; however, inevitably her mind drifted to Fred.

The handsome redhead, however, was nowhere to be found. '_That just figures, doesn't it?_' Rosie thought bitterly. She stood up halfheartedly, clutching her book to her chest as she left the lunch table for the quiet serenity of the library. As she made her way down the corridor, though, she heard a desperate mewling noise and the malicious laughter of some students. Rosie's pace slowed, and she slowly peeked around the corner.

What she beheld was horrifying.

In face, she was so struck by the spectacle that her hands shook. For, n the center of the hallway a group of Slytherin students were shooting curses and jinxes at a terrified calico cat. It wasn't just any cat; it was Rosie's cat, James. Patches of his fur were missing from narrowly escaping the spells the malevolent students cast. Part of his left ear was gone, and boils were cropping up on his nose and on the patches were his fur was missing. He was mewling piteously, searching for an escape route that was simply not there.

"Here, kitty, kitty," a sneering Slytherin girl crooned, wagging a bony finger at the unfortunate creature. The cat only shrank away, pressing itself to the wall, its ears flat against its head.

"Petrify it; then we'll have more fun," suggested a piggish looking boy, chortling.

"Good idea," chimed in a third, mousy looking boy with a hooked nose. He raised his wand, intending to follow through with the suggestion when Rosie stepped forward.

"Get away from my cat!" she screeched, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"_Your _cat?" the Slytherin girl repeated, raising almost nonexistent eyebrows. She turned from James to face Rosie fully, her wand held aloft. "We were just finishing up with it. Fletcher," she said to the mousy boy. "If you would."

He raised his wand.

"Don't you _dare _touch my cat!" Rosie yelled, her wand arm moving in a blur as she launched a Shield Charm in front of the boy. His Petrification spell was effectively nullified, but it left her unprotected from the other two. She saw two flashes of purple and maroon light, and she blacked out.

When Rosie came to, she was in darkness, lying in a soft downy bed. She was covered in a white blanket, and a nightstand to her left was occupied by a pitcher of water and a glass. A curtain surrounded her bed; Rosie had no idea why the hospital wing would shield her in such a way.

She opened her mouth the wet her lips.

It was then that she realized that she was missing half of them.

Had her throat not closed up with horror, she would have screamed. Shaking, she lifted her left hand to her face. It was then that she noticed a cast was covering her hand. The limb of her arm felt heavy, almost dead actually. She felt as though a bucket of ice water had been poured over her. Rosie tried to get up to see if anyone was around, but her right leg wouldn't respond. Terror rose in her. Her lip and hand were bad enough. What else could have happened?

She didn't want to, but Rosie pulled away the covers to examine her leg. It had swollen to an enormous size and was an unsightly purplish green color, covered in sickeningly bright orange pustules that smelled repulsive. Rosie resisted the sudden urge to vomit. It looked as though her leg had been replaced with that of a troll's. Already in pain, she now had to suffer disgust and humiliation with herself. Pulling the covers up to her chin, she huddled into the bed, tears of despair streaming down her face. Why did such horrible things have to happen to her just when her life was turning around? Why did she have to endure such misery?

"Hello?" she choked out through quiet sobs. "Is a-anyone there?"

Only silence answered her.

Pain from her disfigured leg and mouth kept her from saying any more. She whimpered helplessly as she tried to fall asleep, but her aching soreness and anguish prevented her from doing so. Still, Rosie prayed that James had escaped from the cruel Slytherin students. He had done nothing to deserve such vicious treatment.

Rosie, however, couldn't help but feel as though she had had it coming to her.


	14. Abduction

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Oh my goodness guys, I'm sorry this took so long to upload!!! I've been so busy with school that it's not even funny. Plus, my job is getting in the way since it's that holiday time of year again. Anyway, I do hope you all enjoy this chapter. In my opinion it's rather boring, but a lot of stuff happens. I've also just started writing chapter 15, but that won't be done for quite some time. Please, please have patience with me! I'm only human. **Updated: 11/15/07**

* * *

Rosie's eyes fluttered open to see pale light illuminating the curtains around her. Her lips—or what remained of them anyway—felt very dry and horribly chapped. Looking down at her arm, she noted with relief that her cast had been removed and the arm was perfectly healthy. It seemed like Madam Pomfrey had fixed it as she slept. She sat up gingerly, reaching for the water pitcher. Taking a tiny sip to wet her mouth, she blinked several times to rid herself of any lingering sleepiness.

Though she could not get out of bed yet owing to her still disfigured leg, Rosie yawned and stretched. She was about to call for Madam Pomfrey when the woman herself pulled back one of the curtains, smiling warmly.

"How are you feeling, dear?" she asked kindly, placing a tray loaded with food in front of Rosie. The motherly nurse also placed a steaming mug on the tray; Rosie hoped it was the medicinal potion she needed to put her leg and mouth back to normal. Rosie smiled in thanks and began cutting up some eggs and sausage.

"I feel all right," she replied as she swallowed a bite of egg. "But um… who was it that brought me up here? I only remember seeing the flashes from those students' wands before I blacked out."

Madam Pomfrey's smile faded a bit as she nudged the healing potion towards Rosie insistently. "Well, I know that you would like to have been rescued by Mr. Weasley (at the mention of Fred, Rosie looked hopeful), but sadly that is not the case. According to your dear friend Meredith, he hasn't been seen for three days now."

"Three days?!" Rosie exclaimed. Warning bells clanged loudly in her subconscious mind. "Has anyone gone looking for him?" she asked frantically. The nurse nodded reassuringly.

"Yes, but so far the search has been fruitless; however, the headmaster is doing his very best to find him."

Rosie still harbored a suspicious and gnawing feeling in her gut as she downed the potion. There was something going on, something odd, but she had no idea what it was, nor whom would want Fred hurt.

Suddenly she choked with realization.

'_Perhaps a hex, maybe a jinx or two might… misfire on him.'_

That kind of trouble could spell just one thing.

Draco Malfoy.

Rosie stayed in the hospital wing for another three days, over which time her lip was completely restored by Madam Pomfrey. Her leg was treated and healed, but even so, Rosie would never walk quite the same. Also, a faint scar remained on the right side of her upper right thigh; a white, irregular blob. Still, Rosie was thankful that she could walk. Though she was hit with mountains of missed assignments, she shoved it all aside and tried to think of what Malfoy might have done to Fred.

The evening she was released—a rather warm one for January—Rosie lay sprawled on her stomach, poring over the game of chess she had started with Meredith. Rosie, fittingly, was losing; her pawn had been mercilessly taken by one of Meredith's bishops and a knight had been crushed by the white queen. With a sigh, Rosie moved a pawn forward to block one of Meredith's and rolled over onto her back.

"Where could Malfoy have taken him?" she asked for the umpteenth time. Meredith, who was levitating Rosie's _Advanced Transfiguration Techniques, Volume I_, sighed in exasperation.

"Rosie, I just don't know. What we need is a clue. What I'd like to know is who brought you to the hospital wing," the blonde girl brooded, chewing at the tip of a quill.

'_Who, indeed?' _Rosie wondered, going back to a forgotten make-up essay for Charms; it was something about Unknowables.

"What _are _Unknowables, anyway, Mer?" Rosie asked. Meredith shrugged and turned; she had busied herself by turning her blonde hair different shades of purple and blue.

"Oh, things like Unplottable places, stuff you can't put on maps or find by Apparition or spells.. They come in handy when you want to hide things."

Rosie gaped. There was her answer, spelled right out for her.

"Meredith, if you knew that, why didn't you ever tell me?!" she cried. "And more importantly, why don't you apply this to your schoolwork?"

Meredith chuckled. "Well, you never asked."

"But then how are we going to get in to the Room of Requirement?" Rosie asked, her tone a little crestfallen.

"Well," Meredith quipped with a grin, "I doubt that 'I need to save my true love from the purest evil' is going to work." At this, Rosie scoffed, going back to the chess game.

Meredith had indeed taken her pawn, but now several of Meredith's pieces were open to an attack from Rosie's bishop. She took them, and quickly. It seemed as though things were turning in her favor once more.

Still, Rosie missed her cat and Fred.

* * *

"So, how do you like it here, Weasley?" Malfoy sneered, tracing his wand along Fred's jaw line. The normally humorous redhead curled his lip in disgust.

"Blow me, scum," Fred spat defiantly, jerking his head away from Malfoy's wand. The pale Slytherin prince chuckled maliciously.

"Not so tough when I've got you in a few ropes, are you? Tell me, what is it like to be totally helpless, at the mercy of someone you despise?"

Fred snorted. "Please. A Puffskein's got more balls than you do."

Malfoy's face darkened and he drew back his fist, not wasting any time in giving Fred a bloody lip. The redhead laughed.

"Wow, didn't think you had it in you, pasty face. Figured you wouldn't want to dirty your girly little hands."

"Shut up!" Malfoy screeched, punching Fred in the face again.

"Who's at whose mercy now, eh, Draconia?" Fred chuckled, despite the pain in his jaw that was increasing steadily. "I'm not as helpless as you think."

"Don't forget who's got your wand, blood traitor!" Draco snarled, waving the worn piece of wood in front of Fred's nose. Fred would have shrugged had he not been strapped so tightly to a stiff oak chair. He wasn't fazed by Malfoy at all; the Slytherin boy barely had control over his own wand as it was.

Fred cocked his head, his jaw set and resolute despite the situation. He'd find a way out—he always did. His eyes roamed the room—it had become delightfully full of various torturous and binding instruments according to Malfoy's twisted likings. The Room of Requirement had become as dank as the dungeons and equally as dim, a very light fog shrouding the floor. That could become useful later, but first Fred needed a way to get loose.

"Why so quiet?" Draco asked mockingly, spinning Fred's wand between his long fingers. "Perhaps if you stay quiet, I'll let you get up and walk a bit."

Fred gave him a long, hard look, weighing his options. First, he could mention how he was contemplating beating Draco's face in with a broom, or he could let Draco have his weak victory for the moment.

He satisfied himself by biting his tongue.

Malfoy smirked and waved his wand, the ropes binding Fred's legs together disappearing, allowing him to stand and walk, but Fred could still not move his arms, which were securely bound behind his back. Fred got to his feet, sneering at Malfoy, though he could not say that it didn't feel great to stand up. For the past couple days, Fred had been bound to that awful chair and given meager amounts of food and drink that Malfoy's cronies brought from the kitchens, with Malfoy taunting him at every moment.

Whenever Fred was left alone, however, he did everything nonmagical that he could think of to get free, but alas, Malfoy had searched him and taken everything Muggle-related from him, which included a small pocketknife. His only sense of time was whenever Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle entered or left the Room of Requirement, and Fred guessed that almost four days had gone by. Plus, with their comings and goings, Fred did not know what was going on in the rest of Hogwarts, as Malfoy Silenced Fred whenever he tried to coerce information from Malfoy's less intelligent bodyguards. It was, overall, quite a predicament.

Malfoy had planned it quite well, Stunning Fred as he pushed aside a tapestry to take a hidden passage. Fred always used that passage as a shortcut to the Great Hall for lunch. He had been so distracted by thoughts of seeing Rosie that he had been caught completely off guard.

Fred's insides squirmed. He had never even made it to the Hall to see Rosie before he had been kidnapped. Could Malfoy have done something to her as well? If not, how was she? Where was she? Could she be looking for him at that very moment? There were just too many questions without answers.

Still, Fred dearly missed Rosie, and he vowed to beat the living daylights out of Malfoy if the scum had harmed one hair on her head.

Little did he know that Rosie was pacing just outside the Room of Requirement, thinking of everything she could to try and get into the room. She was not only frustrated, but desperate, even with Meredith standing by. In fact, Rosie was so distraught that she slumped down in front of where she knew the room to be and cried. The salt tears leaked freely from her eyes as she shook with sobs.

"Mer, he's right on the other side of this wall and I can't do a thing!" she choked out, her voice hoarse and strained. "The one person I care about most is on the other side, and I can't get to him!"

Meredith crouched down next to her and held her comfortingly, chiding her softly. "Hush now, dearest. Fred knows you're looking for him; in fact, he's probably worried sick about _you_. Plus, this is Fred we're talking about. He'll find a way out."

Rosie looked up at Meredith, wiping her eyes and smiling weakly. "Thanks Mer. I'm sorry; it's just that I'm so worried—"

"You had best be off to your dormitories, my dear girls, before I am forced to not only deduct five points from each of you, but give you detention as well," drawled a bored voice. "Now wouldn't _that _be tedious?"

Snape's thin, sour milk-colored lips curled into an icy smile. Rosie's stomach turned when she looked up at him, but she knew better than to say anything. Meredith made to offer a smart retort, but Rosie put a hand on Meredith's arm, hastily composing herself.

"Sorry, Professor," Rosie said as respectfully as she could manage. To this, Snape only nodded curtly and motioned for them to be off. Without a word, Rosie jumped to her feet and pulled Meredith along with her, turning the corner to head for the Ravenclaw dormitories.

However, Rosie wouldn't be defeated that easily.

As soon as she and Meredith were out of Snape's sight, Rosie pulled Meredith into a hidden corridor covered by a tapestry. Snape followed after them, just as Rosie had hoped, so she cast an Invisibility Charm on herself and Meredith in case he lifted the tapestry. She could hear Snape's even, quick footsteps echoing on the stone floors as he turned the corner and stopped in front of the tapestry. Rosie held her breath, praying to every god she could think of that this time, Snape would walk past.

Her blood pounded in her ears.

The tapestry shifted and a long, sallow finger curled around it.

It was over. Rosie and Meredith were going to get detention and thus be foiled in their attempt to rescue Fred.

Therefore, it was quite a shock when Professor Sprout's voice sounded out of nowhere.

"Ah, there you are, Severus! I know it is quite late, but I was attending to my Mandrakes, and one of them—"

"You require a mending antidote?" Snape cut her off, his long finger sliding away and out of Rosie's sight. The girl almost collapsed with relief.

"Sharp as always!" Professor Sprout clicked cheerily. "Now if you would just take me to your private store…"

Their voices faded away gradually as they made for the dungeons. When Rosie was sure they were gone, she exhaled loudly and sank to her knees. Meredith, who was used to evading teachers, smiled.

"Wow, Fred's been rubbing off on you, hasn't he?" the sly blonde asked as she pushed the tapestry aside for Rosie. The now not-so-meek girl smiled weakly.

"Yeah… I just… I just hope he's okay," Rosie replied, going back to the corridor and staring fixedly at the blank wall where she knew the Room of Requirement to be. "I think I'm going to wait here until Malfoy shows his ugly face," she stated resolutely with a frown, holding her wand at the ready. She was going to make him pay dearly for kidnapping Fred.

Meredith did not miss the dark look that passed over her friend's face. "I'll take the first watch," she offered, moving to take Rosie's place. Rosie was stiff at first, but then she nodded, knowing that even in her current state, she would eventually tire and therefore not be able to face Malfoy.

As Rosie stepped back to watch back at the corner, she couldn't help but shiver ever so slightly. Hogwarts was so different in the dead of night. The walls seemed larger, more close together, and definitely more foreboding. Even though Meredith was just feet from her, though, Rosie hadn't ever felt so alone in the castle before. Before, when she hadn't been dating Fred, she wouldn't have felt so afraid. She had been used to being by herself, never relying on anyone other than Meredith for comfort. Sure, having Meredith around was nice, but Fred was different. Fred didn't just comfort her with a few heartfelt words and a hug. He truly made her feel _better _about herself. He lifted her self-esteem; he made her laugh. Soft kisses and gentle cuddling assured her that everything would be all right. Fred had taught her how to have fun and not be so studious all the time, how to be comfortable with herself.

Yet…

Rosie had forgotten how to be without him.

Her world seemed so empty without Fred, so hollow… so…

"Rosie!" hissed Meredith suddenly, tearing her from her downwardly spiraling thoughts. "The room is opening!"


	15. Rescue and a Revelation

Rosie's heart jumped to her throat and she dashed to Meredith's side. The stone wall was indeed showing signs of a large doorway, dust falling to the floor as cracks formed its outline. Rosie held her breath and gripped her wand tightly, her knuckles white. Meredith similarly gripped her wand, only her expression was stony, more determined. Both girls watched as the door completely materialized, swinging open ever so slowly.

"_Stupefy_!" Rosie shouted as an arm came into view. When the spell hit, the figure crumpled to the ground, its torso visible to them. Bright blue eyes held a look of mild surprise, and a sprinkling of freckles gave him dead away.

"Fred!" Rosie gasped in horror.

"Get down!" Meredith screeched, shoving Rosie out of the way as a jet of light flew from the doorway. The bright yellow beam hit Meredith squarely in the chest, dropping her to the floor. Rosie looked up in apprehension, her wand hand shaking slightly as Draco Malfoy stepped into the corridor.

"Pity," Draco drawled, spinning his wand between his long fingers. "I thought she was smarter than that." He wrinkled his nose at Meredith's limp body; the curse had caused an unsightly fungus to sprout on her face.

Rosie swallowed hard as Malfoy's eyes burned into her own, a confident smirk curling his lips.

"You're not going to get away with this," Rosie promised, though her voice shook with unease. "You'll pay for what you did to Fred and Meredith!"

Draco laughed as Crabbe and Goyle appeared behind him, their hulking figures flanking him making him all the more menacing.

"Head back to the common room," he spouted idly, waving the brutes away. "I'll deal with her myself."

Rosie breathed a little easier with Crabbe and Goyle gone, but she knew that Malfoy could not be trifled with. He had kidnapped Fred and almost had Rosie permanently disfigured, and James, her beloved cat, was probably dead. She would not underestimate him.

"Why did you do this?" Rosie demanded, her anger beginning to swell. "I never did anything like this to you!"

"That is the cost of crossing Draco Malfoy," the platinum blonde said simply. Though he sounded smug, a strange look passed over his face, one that Rosie, try as she might, could not identify. She swallowed hard, steeling herself as she straightened her shoulders.

"You'll pay for this, Draco Malfoy," she promised, raising her wand.

Malfoy chuckled, his eyes glinting like twin chips of ice in the light cast by the corridor torches. "We'll see about that."

He raised his wand. Rosie did the same.

They simply stared at one another for a moment, Rosie's eyes filled with quiet determination, Malfoy's exuding arrogant confidence. Simultaneously, they began circling each other, Rosie's wand tip trembling slightly, Malfoy's perfectly steady. Could Rosie really set aside her goodly tendencies and duel Malfoy, here in the corridor, when a teacher could discover them at any moment and expel them both?

She shook such thoughts away. This wasn't about rules anymore. This was about settling everything once and for all. This was about bringing justice to Malfoy, preventing him from hurting Fred and Meredith ever again. Malfoy had caused Rosie enough pain to last a lifetime. He had taken away the most important, precious person in her life and hurt one of her dearest friends—her only friend. Formalities were a thing of the past.

"_Stupefy_!" Rosie shouted, weaving her wand in a blur.

"_Petrificus Totalus_!" Malfoy shot back, torchlight reflecting off his dark hawthorn wand. The spell narrowly missed Rosie; she dove off to the side just in time, so her spell missed Malfoy as well. Scrambling to her feet, Rosie's mind raced, trying to think of her next spell.

"_Diffindo_!" Malfoy snarled, waving his wand as if slicing the air with a sword. Rosie cried out as a slicing pain ripped across her collarbone. Red quickly stained her Hogwarts uniform, her torn flesh visible through a tear in the fabric.

No, she musn't succumb to the pain; it could mean worse if Malfoy defeated her.

"_Relashio_!" she cried out through the throbbing in her chest. Sparks erupted from Rosie's wand, catching on the cloak covering Malfoy's sleeve. It began to smoke, and flames erupted on the thin cloth. Malfoy let out a yell as the flames ate through the cloth to his skin.

"_Aguamenti_!" he hissed, steam billowing from his sleeve as he extinguished the flames. It proved to be the moment of distraction that Rosie needed.

"_Furnunculus_!" she shrieked, pointing her wand at Malfoy's face. Boils of a hideous tomato color erupted on his porcelain skin. They began to spread down towards his neck and shoulders. As they spread, some of them burst, secreting disgusting yellow pus. Malfoy roared in pain, anger, and revulsion, pointing his wand blindly.

"_Confundo_!" he bellowed, a jet of light bursting from his wand. The beam ricocheted off the wall and nearly hit Rosie. She threw herself to the stone floor as it neared; she could feel the heat warm her back as the beam flew past.

The Confundus jinx flew straight for Malfoy, who was still flailing blindly. It hit him in his chest, and instantly, he ceased his mad flailing. Instead, he lowered his arms, a dazed, dreamy look occupying his features. Rosie's lips trembled. Draco was finally incapacitated, but she couldn't believe that she had actually dueled him. No matter how much she despised him, Rosie still felt bad for hurting him. Looking at his ugly, befuddled and boil covered face, Rosie couldn't help but feel pity, even remorse.

Still, even his confused state did not warrant her trust.

"_Incarcerous_," she muttered, ropes binding him securely.

Then Rosie turned to Meredith, raising her wand. "_Finite Incantatem_," she said, the growths disappearing from her friend's fair face.

Eyes glittering with unshed tears and her bottom lip trembling, Rosie turned at last to Fred's still form. She was suddenly struck with immeasurable guilt for Stupefying him.

This guilt mixed with the pining she had felt when she had discovered Fred had gone missing. The boy who had brought such comfort, joy and love to her life had almost been taken away from her for God knows how long. She could not bear losing him again; far worse things than Draco Malfoy prowled the Wizarding world, and if Rosie couldn't even protect Fred from a malicious student, what use was she?

"_E-Ennervate_," she stammered, desperately trying to shake off those terrible thoughts. Fred's brilliant blue eyes sparkled with vitality. He looked up at Rosie, who had dropped to her knees beside him. His thin lips curved into a gentle smile.

"Well hello love. Been too long, hasn't it?" he said, winking lazily. He sat up, but was almost immediately shoved back to the floor as Rosie threw her arms around him.

"Fred… Fred…" she sobbed, holding him tightly. She felt Fred's strong arms encircle her, squeezing her reassuringly.

"Oy, after three days, the last thing I want to see is tears on your pretty face. Smile for me, dear," he asked kindly, raising her face to his.

Rosie managed a tiny smile through her tears, which she wiped away hastily. "I'm so glad you're okay… I thought—I thought—"

"Thought what? That Pasty Face killed me or something?" He chuckled, planting a kiss on Rosie's cheek. "It takes more than a pampered snotnose like Malfoy to best me."

Rosie gave a shaky laugh. He was right. It would be silly to think such a thing.

"That's right," Meredith agreed, who had recovered and knelt next to Rosie, squeezing her shoulder. "You got him good, Rosie. I wish I could have seen you beat him. You must have been fantastic!"

Rosie shook her head. "No, really, it was just wits and luck. I mean he—"

"That's my girl—always modest," Fred grinned. Rosie felt her cheeks color and her heart pound. Fred's girl… Yes, she really was his, and he was hers. Out of all the girls in Hogwarts, he had chosen her. He had chosen the bookworm with three brothers and no social skills, the girl who'd never been kissed, the girl who had always considered herself invisible.

It was then that Rosie realized how lucky she really was, and a wave of gratitude swept over her. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice quivering. "Both of you, for everything."

Fred and Meredith smiled warmly at her, helping her up as they stood.

"It's a pleasure," Fred chuckled.

"Now let's take this lot to Dumbledore, shall we?" Meredith put in, jerking her head toward the bound Malfoy. Rosie nodded. The headmaster would certainly have something to say to him.

"Fifty points from Ravenclaw and one hundred points from Slytherin," Dumbledore stated when Fred, Rosie, and Meredith had recounted their story. "Please release Mr. Malfoy as well," the headmaster added.

All three of their faces carried a dumfounded expression.

"Professor—" Meredith began, but Dumbledore raised a hand.

"I understand all of your feelings in this matter, but to treat a fellow student in this way is something else entirely. I am quite delighted that Mr. Weasley is safe, but the three of you should have never taken this affair into your own hands," the wise old man said calmly. He folded his wrinkled hands on his desk and looked at each of them in turn. "I shall award thirty points to Miss Harper for her heroic rescue of Mr. Weasley, and twenty to Miss Langley for her assistance. I will also be notifying your parents. Now please, do release Mr. Malfoy. I would like to speak to him as well.

Reluctantly, Rosie released Malfoy and waited outside Dumbledore's study with Meredith and Fred.

"It's a load of tosh!" Meredith huffed, throwing her arms up to the heavens. "After everything we did, we don't earn a single point for Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, and all that Malfoy gets is a hundred point deduction from Slytherin and a lecture!"

"Mer, he's right though," Rosie said quietly. "We should have just told Dumbledore where he was and let him handle everything. We could have been expelled—"

"Now my Mum'll be furious," Fred said offhandedly. "And so will both of yours," he added to Rosie and Meredith.

At this the other two fell silent. Indeed, hell hath no fury like that of a mother whose child had behaved so irrationally. Rosie felt her stomach turn with dread.

Suddenly, the doors to Dumbledore's study flew open and Draco Malfoy stepped into their midst. His face was so contorted with rage that Rosie feared he would curse her then and there, but he didn't utter a word. Perhaps it was Meredith and Fred's protective glares, that sent him on his way, but she would never know for certain.

"Miss Harper, please come in," Dumbledore called abruptly from his study. "I have a certain matter to discuss with you."

Rosie swallowed hard and looked at Meredith and Fred. What could Dumbledore want? Was she about to get expelled?

Meredith and Fred smiled reassuringly. Rosie, with her legs feeling like lead, stepped reluctantly into Dumbledore's study, closing the door behind her.

"Please sit," Dumbledore asked, smiling disarmingly. Rosie quietly did as he asked, staring at his folded hands on the desk.

"Yes, sir?" Rosie squeaked timidly, fearing the worst. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"I assume you are still wondering who it was that delivered you to the hospital wing a few days previous," he stated, his expression mild.

Rosie looked up at his lined, weathered face, indeed curious. She held her breath. "Yes sir?"

Dumbledore chuckled.

"It may come as a shock, but I must inform you that your rescuer was none other than Professor Snape."


	16. Trust Me

Rosie's jaw dropped, her eyes growing to the size of saucers. Dumbledore only continued to smile serenely.

"Professor," Rosie said slowly, "there must be some mistake. I mean… I'd sooner believe that…" She grasped for names. "Vincent Crabbe rescued me, sir," she finished, laughing nervously. "I mean… to say that Professor Snape of all people… he doesn't even like me."

The silver haired headmaster chuckled. "That may be true, but I have information that might alter your opinion of our Potions master, if only slightly."

Rosie cocked her head, her brow furrowing with both confusion and curiosity. "What is it, sir?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he looked at Rosie over his half moon spectacles. He leaned forward in his chair, steepling his fingers.

"As I believe you already know, Mr. Malfoy is quite a popular student," he began, smiling as Rosie snorted indignantly. "Many have noticed that he has taken a particular… interest in you, negative though it may be. I have heard of your previous encounters with Mr. Malfoy, and it did not surprise me when I heard he was up to something. Naturally, I made sure you were watched most carefully."

"So… Professor Snape has been following me?" Rosie asked, her stomach turning. As if the greasy Potions master couldn't get any creepier. "Why couldn't you have had someone watch Fred too? He was the one kidnapped."

"It did not occur to me, nor to any of the staff, I'm sure, that Mr. Malfoy would go so far as to hold Mr. Weasley hostage in an attempt to lure you," Dumbledore replied, heaving a great sigh. "It was a terrible mistake on my part not to consider that Mr. Malfoy might start targeting those close to you.

"It also escaped me that Mr. Malfoy would use other students to capture you, the ones that initially put you in the hospital wing," the headmaster continued. "They were punished severely for their actions against your cat, I assure you."

A lump rose in Rosie's throat. Her poor, dear James. She'd had him since he was just a kitten in her first year. James and Rosie were constant companions; he had always been a comfort to her, something to snuggle up to. Even now, she could hear him meowing.

No, she really _could _hear him meowing.

"Professor," said Rosie, "is that—?"

Her heart nearly stopped when a familiar calico cat leapt into her lap, purring loudly. James had been rescued as well, and was completely healed.

"James!" she cried, hugging her precious cat as though she would lose him again if she let go. "Professor, thank you!" she wailed with gratitude, overcome with joy.

The headmaster beamed, his blue eyes twinkling. "It is Professor Snape you must thank, Miss Harper, for without him you and your cat might have been completely at the mercy of Mr. Malfoy."

"Sir," she said after a moment, scratching James behind his ears. "If you knew Malfoy was up to something, why didn't you stop him before all of this happened?"

"We had no proof," Dumbledore said simply. "I cannot simply accuse a student of performing malicious acts on another if those acts have not occurred."

Rosie nodded, but still, something nagged at her.

"Why would he go to such lengths, just to get to me?" she asked.

Dumbledore stood, adopting a pensive expression. "That I do not know. Perhaps you should ask him."

He opened the door to his study, and Rosie stood, cradling James in her arms, who was batting at one of her ringlets. "Thank you, Professor," she said humbly, nodding to him. He returned the nod and smiled as she exited his study, closing the door behind her.

Rosie beamed at Meredith, relieved to finally have some peace after everything that had happened., but when her gaze fell upon Fred, she veritably glowed. She took a few steps forward, placed James on the floor, and looked up into Fred's twinkling navy eyes.

"I'm so glad you're back," she said quietly, her lips curving upward in a shy, yet mysterious smile. Her eyes positively glittered as if she knew something Fred didn't.

Fred chuckled, lowering his head just a little and whispering softly: "I'm glad I'm back too… and it's all thanks to you."

"Shall I leave you two alone?" Meredith asked with a snicker. Rosie jumped. She had forgotten Meredith was even there. Her face flushed redder than her namesake and Fred couldn't help but grin.

"I'll walk the two of you to your dormitory," he offered to lighten the awkward moment. Rosie nodded fervently and Meredith smiled appreciatively.

"Thanks Fred," said Meredith, "but I think Rosie would prefer you stay in the hospital wing for a day."

She could not have been more right about her best friend. Then again, Rosie was very easy to read.

"Nonsense!" Fred scoffed. "I'm fine; fantastic, really."

Meredith and Rosie did not entirely believe him, but they allowed him to walk them to Ravenclaw Tower. Meredith went through the portrait hole first after successfully answering the brass raven's question. Rosie, however, hung back a moment.

Face to face with him after three agonizing days of worry, she finally appreciated how handsome he was. He rested his hands comfortably on her hips and his eyes sparkled as Rosie looked up at him. She couldn't stop smiling. Her lips hovered just inches from Fred's; they longed for his touch. He kissed her forehead and the tip of her nose, but he only smiled when he arrived at her pretty little mouth, pulling away just as she leaned forward.

"Good night, love," he whispered, turning and setting off at an easy pace down the corridor. He looked back once. "I'll see you around," he said with a wink before he turned the corner.

Fred's last words echoed in Rosie's dreams and followed her throughout the next few days. The smile on her face seemed permanent. Rosie hummed as she entered the library during lunch, her copy of _Advanced Transfiguration Techniques, Part One _clutched to her chest. She took a seat at her favorite table and opened the book, sighing contentedly. It didn't matter that she had neglected much of her homework since school had resumed; Rosie knew she could handle it now that Fred was back. Leaning back in her chair, she couldn't stifle a giggle. Happiness of this magnitude had not enveloped her since the Yule Ball.

It was then that a warm hand slid through her curls and wrapped around her neck. The thumb stroked Rosie's pale skin softly, causing goose bumps to erupt on its surface. Warm, firm lips pressed softly against her temple.

"Hello, Fred," Rosie whispered, feeling her face flush.

"Afternoon, darling," Fred said. "I was wondering if you could help me find a book."

Rosie did not expect such an inquiry from Fred, and was thusly a little taken aback. _'When does _Fred _ever read?' _she thought. He wasn't the type to do much research—at least not to Rosie. Still, she stood up to help him.

"Okay then. Um… what section would it be in?" she asked. Fred raised his eyes to the ceiling, pursing his lips in a pensive expression.

"Hmm… somewhere over this way, I think," he replied mysteriously, slinking towards some shelves. Rosie followed after him with her book in her arms, rather mystified.

Fred's long, slender fingers slid over each book's spine, his eyes skimming each of the titles with disinterest. Rosie could hear him humming to himself. He reached one corner of the library. The shelves formed a dead end that was out of sight from most of the rest of the place. Fred stopped as he reached the end and turned to face Rosie. He was wearing an odd smirk on his face, as if he had just learned a most intriguing secret. Now Rosie knew he was up to something.

"You weren't looking for a book, were you?" Rosie asked shrewdly, raising an eyebrow and smiling.

"Oh no, I'm definitely looking for a book," Fred clarified. He took a few steps forward, and Rosie, a little unnerved by his expression, took a few steps back. She felt her back come in contact with a shelf of books, but still, Fred did not stop. He caressed her cheek with his left hand, resting the other on the shelf. His lips were less than an inch from hers.

Rosie felt dizzy. She could feel her cheeks burning as Fred's gaze bore into her. It wasn't frightening, but it was intense, perhaps demanding. He smirked, and Rosie's pulse quickened. Her book fell to the floor with a muffled thump, but she could barely hear it. Blood pounded in her ears.

"Trust me," whispered Fred almost inaudibly.

Rosie swallowed hard.

Fred's lips met hers, and Rosie was swept away. It was the Yule Ball all over again. She was powerless to Fred's charm, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He was so warm, so strong against her. His lips enveloped her, causing butterflies to dance in her stomach. Time no longer held meaning. There was only this moment with Fred, her fingers weaving through his ginger hair, her prince in disguise.

When Fred pulled away, it was all too soon. Rosie wanted to pull him back into her arms, but she could hardly stay standing. Fred laughed softly in her ear.

"I found it," he murmured, pulling a tiny, square shaped book from the shelf Rosie was against. It was about two inches long on all sides and midnight blue in color. A moon with clouds shrouding it decorated the leather it was bound in. There was no title. When Rosie opened it, she found that the pages were blank. Fred smiled at her befuddled expression.

"Write something in it sometime," he said, that mysterious smile playing again on his handsome face.

* * *

Well, here is Chapter 16!! I hope you all haven't become TOO impatient with me. Exams are a killer. Aren't you glad that James is perfectly all right? I am. And just what might that book do? What is it for? Why on Earth would Fred want Rosie to have it? And why did Draco Malfoy cause Rosie so much misery? As far as Draco Malfoy goes, that is all up to your interpretation. As for the book, you will have to wait and see : I've been wanting to write the scene in the library for quite a while, ever since I drew a picture of Fred and Rosie a long time ago. It can be found on Deviant Art under my penname, tayran. I'm considering changing my fanfiction name to that, so if I do, please take a look out for me! All of my stories will be moved to that account if it is created. Also, can anyone catch any significance to the cat's name? I might be tempted to write a filler chapter at the end of this story if you can. 

Oh Fred... how you make me swoon.

Much love - Taryn, aka pokichan, and future wife of Fred Weasley.


	17. It's a Mystery

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Hi guys! I am so, so sorry that it has taken me this long to update!!! I had the ugliest, largest art block this side of the US. I couldn't come up with ANYTHING for any of my fictions, nor drawings. I must also admit that this chapter is not the most exciting, but the next will be much more promising, I assure you. It IS Fred's birthday. I have also decided exactly how I am going to end this fiction, though I will tell you that it will leave you at something of a cliffie :) No worries though, because I will start the sequel as soon as I finish up this fic. Again, I must thank all of my faithful readers for being this patient with me and for leaving such kind reviews!! Please, please stay with me, despite how long it might take me to update! Every author hits a creative block at one point or another;I only ask that you keep me going by continuing to support me. It means more than you know. All right, now on to the chapter, and if you have any questions, feel free to ask!

* * *

Despite Fred's suggestion, Rosie decided to keep the book stowed in the inside pocket of her bag. The only times she ever took it out were when she was quite alone, and even then, she merely flipped through the blank pages. The paper was very smooth and thick; it was heavier than it appeared. Often she pondered as to what it could possibly be used for, but knowing Fred, it couldn't be anything seriously dangerous. Still, curiosity nagged at her.

The arrival of the Triwizard tournament's second task temporarily stole Rosie's attention. It was only at Meredith's prodding that she even went. She and Meredith sat amongst the other Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang students, all wildly cheering for their respective champions. Rosie sighed and glanced about nervously; why had Meredith insisted on sitting high up on the stands? She wasn't very comfortable with sitting so high up above the lake. It made her nervous, almost unbearably so. All she could do to remedy her uneasiness was watch Fred and George ask around for bets, their faces lit with identical grins. The two of them cut through the students, their scarlet hair making it easy to distinguish them from others. Below them stood the champions at the dock that had been made for the tournament.

A cannon sounded and all four of the champions dove into the water. Rosie recalled Dumbledore saying each of them had to retrieve something precious to them from the depths of the lake. She could just imagine how horrible it must be for them—she would be absolutely frantic if something like that happened to Fred.

Minutes ticked by like hours as everyone waited anxiously for someone to surface. The first was Fleur Delacour, spluttering and flailing. The Beauxbatons girl had met up with some nasty grindylows and had been forced to retire. There was a considerable gap between her return and that of the next champion: Cedric Diggory. In his arms he cradled Cho Chang, Ravenclaw's unspoken princess. Rosie had to force herself not to roll her eyes. Next was Krum, though at first Rosie thought it was a shark bent on devouring Hermione Granger. Now the only one left was Harry. Only a few minutes remained.

"Is the suspense killing you yet?" Meredith yelled over the roaring crowd. Rosie laughed. No, it wasn't, but she supposed it was still rather exciting.

Then Harry surfaced, coughing up water and gasping for air, clutching Ron Weasley and a little blonde girl whom Fleur rushed to. It might have been her sister. Rosie stood and cheered with her fellow students, glad that the task was over. Now was the time for celebrating.

The Ravenclaw dormitory was packed with students, all recounting the feats of the champions that afternoon. It was early evening, and a brilliant sunset illuminated the common room through the huge glass windows of Ravenclaw tower. Rosie sat, curled up in her favorite armchair, already in pajamas. In her lap was Fred's book. She traced over the raised designs with her index finger, a small smile on her face. All around her, students chattered excitedly about the task, what the bottom of the lake could have been like, and what the third task could possibly have in store for the champions. Rosie personally did not find the tasks too exciting, apart from the very first one.

Dragons had always held a mystic allure to Rosie, and to see the champions risk their lives to obtain their golden eggs had been exhilarating to watch. The majestic beauty and grace with which they carried themselves fascinated Rosie to no end. Often she would beg her older brother Ben to take her to see the dragon reservations he constantly fought to protect, but he always refused, insisting that it was too dangerous for her. Still, she vowed that one day, she would visit Mimsy the Welsh Green, the one that Ben threatened to feed with anyone that broke Rosie's heart.

"Rosie, what do you think the last task will be?" asked a slight Ravenclaw girl, a year Rosie's junior. Everyone looked at Rosie eagerly, which made her face grown quite warm.

"Uh… I… I-I need to go," Rosie stuttered, jumping out of her chair as though prodded with a red hot poker. She hastily pushed through the crowd and out of the portrait hole.

Panic had caused her to bolt. "So… so many people…" Rosie whimpered slouching down beside the bronze raven. "And they were all looking at me." Shuddering at the memory of it, she opened Fred's book again, which she had subconsciously carried out with her. She perused the pages once again. If only she had a quill. But to get one, she would have to go back in, which would mean more awkward staring. Then again, she couldn't sleep out in the corridor. It was awfully chilly at night.

Heaving a great sight, Rosie stood and reentered the common room after answering the raven's question. As expected, the common room was a little quiet after her abrupt departure, and Rosie earned more than one curious stare. It made her want to sink into the floor.

"You all right, Rosie?" Meredith asked kindly, trying to ease the tension. "Took another one of those dizzy spells, huh?"

Rosie seized the opportunity. "Yes, yes! All of a sudden, I just felt so unbearably dizzy and stuffy. I had to get some air."

"Well, nothing some cold pumpkin juice can't fix," said a portly but kind sixth year boy, handing her a glass. Rosie smiled in thanks. She was glad she was generally liked by her fellow Ravenclaws.

Rosie returned to her seat, but then she suddenly felt quite drowsy. She wanted to stay up for the festivities, but it seemed all the excitement from the task had worn her out. She drained her glass of pumpkin juice and set it on a nearby end table, then yawned and stretched. "I think I'm going to go to bed," she muttered to Meredith, who nodded understandingly.

"'Night, Rosie," she said softly. "Sleep well."

Yet try as she might, sleep could not find Rosie that evening. Constant rolling over and closing her eyes did not help. The book kept drifting across her mind. At last, unable to bear it any longer, she threw off her blanket and grabbed the book off of her nightstand. She fished around in her trunk for a moment before managing to extract a quill and an ink bottle. Rosie muttered, "_Lumos_," and then opened the book to the first page, which seemed like a sensible place to start. The tip of her quill hovered over the blank page. What should she write?

Rosie chewed her lip, stumped. If it was a diary like Tom Riddle's had been, she would have to take care what she wrote in it. No, Fred wouldn't give her anything that dangerous. What if it was like a Muggle diary? Then anyone could read it, so Rosie would have to be doubly careful of what she wrote in its pages. He head spun with all the possibilities.

"Why does this have to be so difficult?" she whimpered, issuing a hiss of frustration.

She decided it would be best to write something simple. It would be harmless, really, to write about her affection for Fred—word had long been going around that she and Fred were more than friends. Yes, as long as she kept her writing short and simple, she needn't fear for any prying eyes.

In her petite, but flowing cursive script, Rosie wrote: _I am hopelessly, incandescently happy._

She knew it was not quite safe to write 'love,' not only because she feared that someone would read it, but also because she wasn't sure if she was really in love. Yes, she cared deeply for Fred. Butterflies danced in her stomach whenever she was near him, but this being her first real relationship, she didn't know what love felt like. She was certain, however, that she would know if love struck her.

Rosie curled up in her bed and fell asleep with the book nestled in her arms, as a child would its favorite toy.

She woke the next morning with a curtain of raven curls hanging in her eyes. Rosie rolled over onto her back, sleepily shaking them away. Pale sunlight streamed through the window above her bed as she sat up and stretched. Instinctively she reached for the book, which had been pushed to the edge of her bed during the night. The other girls were still sleeping, so she quietly opened the book to the first page, more to look back over her simple sentence than anything else.

To her surprise, her words had vanished, replaced with a new line: _The way to happiness lies in giving it to others._

Rosie studied the words, which were neat, precise, and all in small capitals. It wasn't Fred's writing, that much was certain. It was probably another trick of the book, something like a fortune. She shrugged, having never been particular fond of fortunes and their ilk. Still, Rosie decided to heed the words. Fred, after all, had given her the book.

Stifling a yawn, Rosie padded softly down to the common room. She glanced down at the chess set, and to her dismay, saw that she was in check. She ordered her king to move out of harm's way, to which he replied dryly: "Glad to see you're paying attention," as she plopped down in her favorite chair. She flipped open her book again. The pages were blank once more. Puzzled, Rosie closed it and returned to the girl's dormitory to change, deciding that she would ask Fred about the qualities of the book at breakfast.

"I can't reveal all of my secrets," Fred smiled when Rosie approached him and sat down. He winked as she gave him a slightly crestfallen look. "I'll tell you a bit, though." At this, Rosie brightened.

"You can write whatever you like, because once you close it, all the writing will disappear. No one will be able to read it if they open it." Rosie sighed with relief, but the responding writing still gnawed at her. When she voiced her concern, he merely shrugged and grinned, kissing her cheek. "You can see what you've written if you tap it twice. Think of it as an imaginary friend of sorts," he said vaguely. Rosie bit her lip and stared down at the book in her lap. The Gryffindor table was packed and a plate of food lay before her, but she had hardly touched it, owing to all of her questions. Fred noticed her downcast expression and wrapped an arm comfortingly about her waist.

"Don't bite your lip, love," he said softly. Rosie turned her face to his, confused.

"Why?" she asked.

"If you bite your lip, how can I kiss you?" he chuckled. Rosie felt her face redden, and she looked away from Fred's sparkling eyes, smiling shyly. After a moment, she plucked up the courage to look him in the eye. Her eyes reflected slight mischief.

"You can't stop me," she pointed out, grinning triumphantly. Fred raised an eyebrow, giving her a sidelong glance. A smirk tugged at his lips.

"We'll see about that."

February soon gave way to March, with heavy sleet permeating the air rather than snow. Rosie continued to write in her book every now and then, and sometimes she would sit down to write and find that the book had asked a question of its own. They were mostly silly things, like what her favorite color was, or what she would do with a hundred thousand Galleons. Gradually, she relaxed enough to leave it lying around, but then a new problem surfaced.

What would she get Fred for his birthday?

After much deliberation with Meredith in the Ravenclaw common room—venting their frustration via their chess game—Rosie still had not come up with a suitable gift for Fred.

Meredith was flopped down on her stomach, propped up on her elbows and her legs up, crossed at the ankles. Her expression was just as puzzled as Rosie's. She tucked a lock of her blonde hair into a sky blue clip above her ear and sucked in her bottom lip, as she always did when in thought.

"Well, let's go over what he likes to do again," she suggested. "We know that he likes to play practical jokes."

Rosie nodded, moving her queen to destroy one of Meredith's bishops. She was starting to gain the upper hand. "Maybe I could take him to Zonko's or…" She stopped suddenly, a faraway look in her eyes.

Meredith smiled; she knew that look. Rosie had just come up with a brilliant idea. "Okay, what is it?" she asked with a chuckle.

Rosie jumped to her feet, the chess game forgotten. She began to pace back and forth in front of the fireplace—Meredith could almost see the gear whirring at top speed in her head. After a moment, she stopped and turned to her, grinning from ear to ear.

"Okay, this is what we'll do…"

The morning of April first could not come quickly enough for Rosie. She dared not write her plan in her diary of sorts, but she did write: _Fred had best prepare himself for something quite unexpected._

The book replied: _Everyone loves a good surprise._


	18. The Fool's Birthday

**AUTHOR'S NOTE. PLEASE READ!!:** Finally, Chapter 18!! Entitled The Fool's Birthday for obvious reasons. I had a lot of fun with this chapter, and I hope you all will enjoy it! 19 is in progress, and will reveal the meaning of the title of the story :) Please be patient until then!

Rosie got up bright and early on the first of April. She veritably tore her trunk apart searching for something suitable to wear. As she reached the bottom of her trunk, she found the perfect outfit. It was very simple—a forest green sweater that left her shoulders bare. Around her neck she donned a silver chain with a flower on it that had light green rhinestones for petals. Dark washed blue jeans hugged her legs tightly, showing off her nicely shaped thighs and claves. To top it all off was a pair of chocolate brown loafers. If it hadn't been Saturday, she wouldn't have been able to wear the outfit.

Plus, her plan would not go as well.

Rosie pushed her mane of curls back over her shoulders and turned in front of the single full mirror in the girl's dormitory, giggling to herself. Fred was sure in for it. She left her sleeping fellows and traipsed down to the common room, pausing to put Meredith's king in check. Taking a deep breath, Rosie stepped out of the dormitory and into the corridor, her pace light and steady. IT was still about twenty minutes until breakfast. That would give her just enough time to stop by Gryffindor tower. Her eyes glinted mischievously; her fingers clutched her wand tightly.

When she arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady, the voluptuous woman was still asleep. "Excuse me," Rosie said politely, her voice soft. The Fat Lady shifted slightly and opened her eyes, blinking repeatedly.

"Oh, hello dear," she slurred groggily.

"You remember what to do, right?" Rosie asked hopefully. Sleepily, the Fat Lady nodded. Rosie flashed her a smile and tapped her wand against the Fat Lady's frame. A subtle glow lined it for a moment. "Sorry for disturbing you," Rosie said to her before turning and hurrying down the corridor.

When she reached the Great Hall, Rosie was skipping with joy. Things were going to go perfectly. She took her usual seat at the Ravenclaw table. A few other early risers were scattered about the Great Hall, and gradually, more and more students filtered in. Meredith eventually joined Rosie at her side.

"You're really getting into this, aren't you?" Meredith observed, smiling. Rosie's grin bordered on ridiculous. Meredith took it as a yes.

As even more students trooped into the Great Hall, Rosie kept her eyes open for a sign of Fred. She had no idea what time he got up in the morning, and therefore had to watch for when he arrived.

While she waited, Rosie tucked in to a heaping plate of waffles topped with strawberries and whipped cream, her favorite breakfast food. She would need the energy it provided to pull off her scheme, which required a lot of finesse. It would be very tricky to get it just right.

Therefore, when Meredith elbowed her, Rosie nearly spilled her glass of milk, so concentrated was she. Fred had arrived—she could hear his laughter a mile away. Rosie, however, kept her eyes fixed on the plate before her, which took every ounce of her self control. That was one of the key points. She glanced over at Meredith and inclined her head ever so slightly.

Meredith rose from her seat and made her way calmly to the Gryffindor table, ever the cool, collected one. She smiled warmly at those Gryffindors she knew, all the while making her way towards Fred. As always, he took his seat next to George, and was telling a particularly excellent joke about a Puffskein and a vampire. The timing was too perfect to miss.

With affluent grace that only a master such as Meredith possessed, she tripped and slammed heavily into Fred. As expected, his arms shot out to steady himself, but his fingers closed about his plate, which slid off the table with him, landing in a mess on his chest. Meredith, the expert, smoothly rolled out of the way just in time.

"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry Fred!" she apologized fiercely. She pulled out her wand, muttering, _"Scourgify," _to get rid of the mess. Fred looked shocked, even a little dazed.

"No worries," he said. "I've been needing to practice falling out of chairs anyway." This drew some chuckles from those closest to him as he got back to his feet. "It's rather funny, actually," he went on. "First I trip and fall flat on my face coming out of the portrait hole, and now this." He shrugged as Meredith continued to apologize. "It's just my unlucky day, I suppose."

Meredith smiled a little and apologized one last time. Fred patted the air dismissively, assuring her that he knew it to be a complete accident. So, Meredith returned to her seat at the Ravenclaw table, with Rosie eagerly anticipating news of what had transpired.

"Worked like a charm," Meredith affirmed, smirking.

"You're the best, Mer," Rosie beamed.

"Now the real fun is going to being," her blonde companion giggled. "Just wait until lunch."

When lunch finally did arrive, Rosie practically shook with excitement. If the second phase of the plan had gone accordingly… well, she would soon find out. Once again, Meredith sat at Rosie's side. This time, both would have to wait to find out if the plan had succeeded.

The change was very hard to distinguish amidst the white noise of chattering students. It was gradual, as are the first raindrops of a storm, but whispers and tittering soon filled the Great Hall. The Slytherin table offered jeers and cat calls. Rosie had to force herself to eat so that she wouldn't look over her shoulder.

Yes, the plan had succeeded—indeed, it had transcended—in fulfilling her wishes. Meredith chanced a glimpse at the Gryffindor table and she almost choked on some chicken she had been eating. "Rosie—Rosie, look!" she snorted in laughter.

Rosie tentatively peeked over her shoulder. What she saw caused her to erupt in giggles so violent that she shook trying to hold it in.

Fred, on a whim, it seemed, had become the target of a particularly devious prank involving his hair. The normally ginger locks were an intense shade of purple, even his eyebrows. Though he laughed and joked with his peers, Rosie could tell he was put off by the change in appearance. Aside from his hair, his face had a bit of dirt on it in places, and his robes were slightly damp.

It was all too perfect. Rosie went over the prank in her head.

First, when Fred exited the Gryffindor dormitories that morning, Rosie had set a special hex to trip him and cause him to fall to the floor. It certainly wasn't the best way to start the day, but she knew Fred would shrug it off. Then with Meredith's artful skills at faking an accident, Fred's breakfast would splatter all over him. Again, Rosie knew that Fred would consider it a harmless occurrence.

However, Rosie had made sure he wouldn't be able to have peace, not even in his classes. With the help of a few Gryffindor and Hufflepuff students, she had arranged for a complicated spell in his Charms class to misfire and turn his hair that obscene purple color. In additions, when he went to Herbology, a student accidentally tossed dirt in his face while digging a place for some Luck Lilies, a particularly enchanting flower that sprouts tiny bells at their center, indicating good luck. Finally, during Defense Against the Dark Arts, during what was supposed to be a routine practice, Fred's partner lit his robes on fire with a well placed curse, and only with the help of Professor Moody was the blaze extinguished.

Now there was no way Fred could believe it all to be coincidence. He was thoroughly miserable, but still had two classes to attend: Potions and Care of Magical Creatures. Snape was unpleasant enough as it was, and Hagrid would prove to test Fred's ability to sympathize with Hagrid's deep feelings for a large, hairy, and dangerous beast.

Then dinner would arrive, and with it the home stretch.

Yes, Rosie had orchestrated a prank so flawless that it would rival even Fred and George. She turned to regard her plate, which had filled with a delightful assortment of sweets, and eagerly attacked a mint chocolate. For once, she was quite proud of herself.

When dinner did come around, Meredith had to remind Rosie several times to appear completely normal, for by that time, the girl could not sit still. The last part of the plan would only come to pass if Fred played his role to a T. Although, he of course had no idea he even had a part, nor that the plan hinged on it so.

Still, Rosie was confident he would do exactly what she wanted. She picked up her gleaming fork and knife and slowly began to eat. The deliberation allowed her to clear her mind for the final act. She could hear a ticking clock in her head, counting steadily. Would he, or wouldn't he?

Her answer came in the form of a clatter and a dejected sigh.

"Evening love," Fred forced out. The false cheeriness almost stirred pity within Rosie. She smiled warmly.

"Hi Fred," she replied. He squeezed her hand that rested on the bench.

"You're about the only good thing this day has offered," he admitted after a moment. Silently, Rosie cheered with triumph, though her face was a mask of comfort for Fred. As he explained the miseries of his day, Rosie nodded understandingly, and smiled soothingly.

"In short, it's been bloody hell," he finished, laughing hollowly. He ran his hands through his ridiculously colored hair. Rosie entwined her fingers with his own and squeezed his hand gently. He looked at her for a long moment in silence, his navy eyes reflecting warmth and appreciation. Ever so slowly, he leaned forward. His lips were less than an inch from Rosie when she turned away.

"I have something to tell you," she said quietly.

"What is it, love?" he asked, his tone confused.

Rosie smiled and leaned close to his ear, her voice no more than a whisper: "April Fools."

When she pulled back, Fred's face was blank for a few seconds. He blinked several times, as if not comprehending. Rosie opened her mouth to explain her prank, truly thinking that he hadn't caught on, but then a grin spread on his face. His grin widened, accompanied by quiet laughter.

"Rosie… you mean to tell me… that you were behind all of this?" he asked incredulously. "I mean… it's a brilliant joke, but…" He trailed off as Rosie smiled broadly at him, shaking his head. "Wow… I think…"

"You think what?" Rosie asked when he did not finish. Fred chuckled.

"I think that's the best gift I've ever received. That's a prank of the sort only George and I could think up. To think that you…" He shook his head in amazement. "You're after my own heart, dear."

Rosie blushed. "You're not mad?"

Fred embraced her and kissed her cheek. "On the contrary, I couldn't be more delighted. I'm flattered, really," he assured her. "There's just one thing I'd like to ask."

"Mm?"

"If anything, just turn my hair back to normal."

Rosie giggled. "Certainly." With a wave of her wand, the familiar ginger color of Fred's hair returned.

Throughout the remainder of dinner, Rosie and Fred talked and joked. She loved spending time with him, especially on his birthday. Over the past few years, she had anonymously sent him some Honeydukes chocolate as a gift, but to be able to prank him was a thrill unlike any other. Plus, he had loved it! His words echoed in her mind. _'…after my own heart.'_

When dinner ended, she and Fred took a turn about the lake. It still made Rosie nervous to hold his hand. He was so warm. She didn't usually visit the lake often before the development of their relationship, and when she had, it was always by herself, when she was thoroughly miserable about one thing or another. Now, though, her she was, strolling about the lake with Fred Weasley, talking easily with him under the stars. He, the court jester, and she, the timid princess. Such an unlikely pair, but perhaps one that was perfectly suited.

They wandered away from the lake before Rosie even realized it. She had been so caught up in her conversation with Fred that the direction of their feet hadn't once crossed her mind. He stopped, and so did she, blinking curiously. Fred smiled, gently pulling her into a warm embrace.

"Do you remember this place?" he asked softly, raising her chin with his hand.

It took her a moment, but by Merlin, how could she forget! She breathed in deeply; the pleasant damp smell of the air was soothing after the downpour earlier that evening. Rosie closed her eyes, smiling contentedly. Memories of the Yule ball filtered back to her, bright flashes of color and bits of laughter permeating the air. She could remember the crisp flakes of snow in the air as Fred took her out to the grounds to this very spot. Snatches of whispered words tickled her ears once more; she could almost feel Fred's lips against her temple.

Rosie opened her eyes to meet the tender gaze of Fred Weasley. He touched her cheek, stroking it with his thumb. With a soft smile, Rosie placed her hand over his.

"Happy birthday, Fred."


	19. It's Like Wizard's Chess

**AUTHOR'S NOTE! PLEASE READ: **Hello readers!! It's been quite a long time, and I planned to pick this back up in June, but inspiration struck and I finished not only this chapter but the next and part of the one after that. I originally wanted this chapter to be a very momentous and important chapter, since it reveals a lot, but it just didn't turn out how I wanted. Once I finish this story I'll probably be doing a lot of rewriting, so fear not! With rewriting comes improvement. Anyway, please enjoy this chapter while I commence with typing up the next one, which is rather exciting in my opinion. :)

Fred walked her back to the castle all the way to Ravenclaw tower. He held her hand the whole way. Rosie had to fight not to squeeze his hand as they neared the bronze raven. As he bid her goodnight, he planted a soft kiss on her cheek and whispered: "Sleep well."

Rosie didn't want him to go. She wanted to stay comfortably in his arms until morning, if only as an excuse to not leave his side. He was already making his way towards Gryffindor tower. Her mind racing, Rosie blurted the first thing that came to mind.

"How is dating like wizard's chess?"

Fred stopped and turned around slowly, surprise etched on his face. Rosie blushed in embarrassment. How could she have asked something so stupid? She scratched her ear and turned to the raven.

"N—never mind, Red," she stuttered quickly. "Goodnight."

Suddenly she felt him grab her arm. "Wait," he said gently. "I have an answer."

Rosie turned back to him, still slightly embarrassed. Fred chuckled.

"Sometimes the game gets off to a shaky start, with awkward, expected moves," he began. Rosie recalled how they had met up on the train, with her timid mannerisms and nervous laughter. Fred continued.

"One player might feel a little pessimistic about the start, so at first things might not go so well."

She remembered trying to sneak to the kitchens to meet with Fred and George, and the subsequent disaster of being caught by Professor Snape. It still made her skin crawl.

"However," Fred went on, "the other player might grow overconfident and make a mistake, leaving an opening for their opponent."

Yes, Fred had gotten her out of detention by talking to McGonagall. Rosie smiled a little.

"The losing player makes a sudden comeback and evens the odds. Sometimes they even surprise the other player with a brilliant move." Rosie nodded, remembering going to Hogsmeade with him, then later running into Malfoy and forcing him into the fetal position. "However, in a sudden stroke of luck, more errors are made, putting the once losing player back in their place, this time backed in a corner." Rosie shuddered at the memory of the Draught of Guilt and confessing her secret to Dumbledore and the others.

"It's a tight spot for them for a good while, but eventually they reclaim even ground with their opponent, pushing them back even," Fred smiled as he saw Rosie catching on. Their revenge on Malfoy had been sweet indeed. The Yule Ball had been their time of celebration. "It's a vicious cycle, the winning and losing, until at last it becomes a standstill." Rosie winced at the memory of being put in the hospital wing and almost losing Fred to Malfoy's evil designs. At last, though, he had been rescued, and Rosie could once again hold him in her arms.

"There can only be one winner," he finished. "And sometimes, it's the one we least expect."

"But… what does that have to do with dating?" Rosie whispered, still confused. Fred smiled and planted a gentle kiss on her lips.

"Couples go through the same ups and downs. They fight, make up, laugh, cry, and sometimes they don't see each other, but sometimes they stay together."

"I wish you could stay," Rosie muttered before realizing it had slipped out. Fred winked and hugged her reassuringly.

"I'm always around when you need me," he replied.

Rosie pulled at one of her many ringlets and looked off to one side. "Then… will you kiss me again?"

"Rosie, dearest, I would even if you hadn't asked," Fred said softly. Rosie stood up on her tiptoes as Fred swept her into his arms. She felt giddy when she retired to her bunk that night. Fred's kisses always left her as though she had eaten a Fizzing Whizbee. As she snuggled into the covers, she hugged her pillow tightly and fell into slumber filled with dreams of the Yule Ball.


	20. Sibling Rivalry and a Breather

Weeks passed, and soon May was half over. The date was the fourteenth. A typical, ordinary Thursday. The sun shone brilliantly on the grounds, but the occasional cool breeze kept the temperature pleasant and not stifling. For the first time in a long while, Rosie was pining to go outside. She gazed longingly out the window during Charms, daydreaming about zooming around the grounds on her Comet Two Sixty. It had been months since Rosie had flown, and she missed the roar of the wind her ears. Perhaps Fred would consent to fly with her sometime, the two of them guided by only the moon. She smiled as the scene folded before her. Rosie could almost feel the rushing wind on her face, the gleaming moon, the—

"Miss Harper!" squeaked Professor Flitwick in an uncharacteristically stern voice. In fact, were Rosie not so startled, she would have found in comical.

"Yes, Professor?" Rosie replied meekly, sinking down a little in her seat. Heat exploded in her cheeks as her peers sniggered collectively. The shy girl's embarrassment only deepened when the normally cheery wizard cast a disapproving frown her way.

"Miss Harper," said he with exasperation tugging at the edge of his voice, "you have been staring out that window for half the class period. Please, do not waste my time and your opportunity to learn something useful."

Rosie took his words with a grain of salt. She knew he was not only lecturing her, but trying to help her learn. Her nod was slight and mechanical. "Yes sir. I apologize."

For the rest of the lesson, Rosie forced herself to focus, and so she did. By the time class had ended, Professor Flitwick was smiling again. Feeling elated, Rosie sat through Potions later without complaint. The subject matter was actually something slightly agreeable—a hallucinogenic elixir that replaced feelings of pain with pleasant visions and dreamlike euphoria.

"However," drawled Professor Snape, "if administered too liberally, the effects may become a necessity to the user."

A few quiet titters escaped into the air, which Snape quickly silenced. Rosie worked diligently despite the complexity of the mixture, and barely finished it before class ended.

Feeling a little drained, Rosie ate slower than usual at lunch, but decided to visit the Gryffindor table anyway, leaving behind a small portion of food. She felt bolder than usual, so much so that when she neared Fred she bent down and nipped his ear.

He jumped slightly and, though Rosie thought her eyes were deceiving her, turned a little pink.

"Boo!" Rosie giggled, taking the seat Seamus offered between himself and Fred.

The redhead gave her a sidelong glance, his lips twitching upward into a halfhearted smile. This Rosie found odd; Fred never seemed down. "What's the matter?" she asked softly. She searched his eyes for some sort of clue, but nothing seemed forthcoming. "Fred?" she prompted, but he turned away.

"Rosie, I need to have some time alone for a while," he murmured, his voice barely audibly over the buzz of the Hall.

"I don't understand," Rosie said after a moment. "What—?" she started, but Fred cut her off by turning back to her with a thin lipped, strained stare.

"George and I have some things to work out," he said shortly. "Please, I don't want to take out anything on you, so go sit with Meredith."

Rosie was quiet for a moment, then nodded, smiling as best she could manage. She was a little hurt that Fred didn't want to speak to her at that moment. At the very least she wanted to try and offer him some support, perhaps advice, but she knew that family matters were just that: family.

As Rosie stood, Fred grabbed one of her hands. She paused as he gently squeezed it and then gave her a faint smile. It was reassurance enough for her. Dutifully she returned to Meredith's side and took out Fred's book. In it she wrote: _'I loathe being unable to help.'_ With a sigh, she then closed the book and went back to eating her lunch. Meredith squeezed her shoulder comfortingly.

"It's nothing to worry over, dear. Just a minor squabble. They'll work things out, you'll see."

Rosie hoped she was right.

--

What remained of the day passed by quickly for Rosie, and with hardly the realization, she found herself wandering the corridors aimlessly after dinner. Or perhaps she did have purpose, for suddenly she was passing familiar suits of armor—sentries to the halls nearest Gryffindor tower.

Rosie came to a halt, blinking vacantly. Were those voices that she heard just around the corner? They were something like argumentative whispers but were rising in volume, the sounds almost identical. That could mean only one thing. It was Fred and George, and they were arguing over something.

"—can't keep doing this!" George hissed in a loud whisper. "Every single day! I'm not running this by myself! Your girl is—!"

"What? What about her?" Fred demanded boldly. It was so uncharacteristic of the two of them to be angry, Rosie began to shrink back. She should get away, back to the quiet of the Ravenclaw dormitories, let them work things out. Hesitantly, she took a step back.

"You're drowning yourself in her!" George shouted. Rosie clamped a hand over her mouth to silence herself. How she wished she could see their faces! What could Fred's expression be? However, she could not risk being seen. "All you talk about is her!" George went on. "Meanwhile, sales are—"

"So that's what this is about?!" Fred roared. "The stupid, bloody sales?!" He laughed derisively. "That's the best you can come up with? the Wheezes are doing great, and you bloody well know it! No, this is because you're a jealous git!"

"Jealous?!" George spat as if the very word were a foul disease. "You've shut yourself away in the dormitory nearly every night doing God knows what since you've started seeing her! It's like I don't have a brother anymore!"

The silence that ensued was colder than the most frostbitten winter breeze. It cut deeper than anything Rosie had ever heard. She felt tears welling in her eyes; she had no idea Fred was sacrificing so much to be with her. On the other hand, George could be exaggerating. Rosie wanted to know the truth, but she knew she had tarried for far too long. She sprinted back for the Ravenclaw dormitories, wincing with every step amplified by the stone walls. Half of the corridor was behind her before she heard a desperate voice call out to her.

"Rosie!"

She let out a half gasp, half sob, and froze in the center of the corridor. A hand touched her should, but she pulled away.

"I had no idea," she whispered thickly. "You should have—" The rest was drowned in fat tears that fell from her eyes.

"Rosie, he's—" Fred began, but Rosie spun around suddenly, staring him in the eye fiercely and wiping her tears away.

"He's your brother! Don't sacrifice your family for me, Fred!" She saw George standing some feet away, his expression unreadable. "In the end…" she said a little more quietly, "they're all you've got."

Fred stared at her, the shock clearly stamped on his face. "Rosie…"

"George is right. Don't forget that you still have a brother," she repeated with more conviction. "We need… we need a little time apart."

It was the only solution she could come up with at that moment. On the contrary, Rosie would have liked nothing more than to spend as much time with him as possible, but family was paramount to her more than anything, even Fred. That, and she still made time for friends like Meredith, and apparently, Fred wasn't doing the same. It wasn't healthy, and she didn't want Fred becoming obsessed with her and ignoring everyone else. She loved him too much to let that happen.

"Please, Fred," she pleaded softly, squeezing his hand. "Just a couple weeks to learn how to be ourselves again." Even she had started planning her day around seeing him. They needed a breather. "I want to be with you Fred, but I want us to be individuals as well," she finished firmly.

He had listened silently throughout it all, and at that moment he swallowed hard, nodding. "…You're right… we've… we're getting too close." He paused, then nodded again and smiled a little. "Just as long as this means you're not going to go snog a troll or something. You're far out of their league."

Rosie blushed and smiled as Fred winked and laughed softly.

A break, then. Yes, it would be good for them. They agreed to see each other seriously again in two weeks' time, the twenty-eighth, shortly before Rosie's sixteenth birthday.

Fred was already forming a suitable present in his mind as he went to sleep that night. George had even agreed to help after Fred apologized. It seems that sibling rivalry had a funny way of working like that.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **This chapter was very, very difficult for me to write! Originally, I wanted Fred and Rosie to get into a fight, but I just couldn't figure out a situation where they'd be angry with one another, so I decided that Fred would become too close to Rosie to the point where he spends almost every moment he can with her instead of George. Okay, so it's a bit OOC, but then again, I don't have much to work with. Mrs. Rowling never really displayed any sort of negative emotions in Fred save for when George lost his ear, so I had to make up a bit. Hope he doesn't seem _too _angry/negative. Also, since I have a twin sister, I know from experience that no siblings get along perfectly. We've had our share of fights over stupid things, though we've matured a lot more, so I thought it might add a more realistic touch to this fic. Hope you enjoyed! :)


	21. A Matter of Dreams

Initially, Rosie found it extremely difficult to keep her side of the agreement. Fred's easygoing laughter, innumerable freckles, his smile, that mischievous wink… those were what she loved most about him. It was so hard to resist the urge to hold his hand when she occasionally sat next to him, to give him a peck on the check when he gave her a particularly flattering compliment. Meredith had to set some ground rules for her.

There was to be absolutely no handholding or going anywhere alone with him. That was the most important rule, and the one that Rosie wanted to break the most. Secondly, Rosie could sit next to him for only one meal each day, if only to keep her from going insane from not seeing him. Not being able to kiss Fred also proved to be a challenge for Rosie. Now that she knew what it was like to feel his lips against her own, she realized there was actually a huge step between being friends and being a couple.

Meanwhile, Fred was having similar troubles. Who knew that he could become so attached to the resident bookworm, that shy, blushing Ravenclaw girl with a waterfall of curls? He found that her snorting laughter was endearing, and he craved to hear it often. To see her blush and twist a curl with one finger made him wish he could just hold her and not let go. When she smiled, her scarlet lips made the most pleasant curve, her eyes sparkled, and her nose wrinkled just a little. It was a shy smile, something that held mystery no matter how many times he saw it. He had to fight to keep his lips from being magnetically drawn to her own.

Gradually, though, both of them learned to exist independently of one another while maintaining their friendship. They no longer pined for each other, nor did they count the minutes until they could see each other again. Rather, they came to view their time together as a rare treat, but one they could go without having for long periods of time. Rosie recounted her experiences each day to Meredith, and each day Meredith smiled wider and nodded approvingly.

The evening before their "break" ended, Rosie sat up with her wand alight in the Ravenclaw dormitory, penning a few short thoughts into her enchanted book. It had recently offered no responses to her, but a few hours previous, it had posed a question, one she was unsure of answering.

'_Does absence make the heart grow fonder?'_

Rosie stroked the underside of her chin with the feathery tip of her quill. To her, a simple 'yes' did not seem fitting. She needed to go deeper, but how could she do so when the question was so ambiguous? Still, she refused to be deterred by a book of nonsensical designs. Pressing her quill to parchment, she wrote quickly as her heart directed.

'_Absence is something we all must experience, a time to reflect on ourselves and our experiences, to relive happy moments and shed a tear for the sad. But absence is not a permanent state of being; it is rather a feeling, an emotion that brings out the rarest sentiments in all of us and makes us appreciate the things we have. The heart grows fonder because we know we will reunite with our most beloved, whether it be minutes, days or centuries. We are never truly afflicted with absence because of this fact, for as there is always a beginning, there is also an end to all things. But the heart goes on forever.'_

Satisfied, Rosie yawned. Extinguishing her wand, she pulled her bedcovers up to her chin and drifted off to sleep.

--

_Her peal of laughter echoed musically in the air. The sun shone brilliantly on them. It was such a treat to visit Fortescue's one last time before school resumed. Rosie's only complaint was that Fred would not be joining her. She'd miss him terribly between visits to Hogsmeade. The Weasley Wizard Wheezes were really booming thanks to Harry's generous donation. It really warmed Rosie's heart to know that Fred and George were doing well._

_She giggled again as the long tongue of her purple Pygmy Puff snaked out to taste a little of her sundae. Fred sat opposite. He smiled coolly over the cup of sweet lemon ice he held to his lips. It was really starting to get to him, Rosie's smile, the gentle arc of her mouth. He laughed as her Pygmy Puff hummed contentedly._

"_So, is Lynn finally getting used to ice cream?" he joked._

_Rosie stuck out her tongue that Fred answered with a goodhearted wink. "I think Lynn is finally getting used to _you_, Fred. Though I don't know _what _she sees in you," she teased. As if to counter, Fred gave her his most devilish grin. Even after so much time, Rosie had to look away as her face turned scarlet._

"_Cheeky bastard," she muttered halfheartedly. Fred laughed._

"_But I'm _your _cheeky bastard," he reminded her without missing a beat._

_Rosie smiled as a comfortable silence settled between them. A cloud passed over the sun, shading them for a moment. Rosie looked up as a flock of birds fluttered noisily over them. She could not imagine what could have startled them on such a perfect day._

_Cold dread filled her suddenly. Something was wrong, terribly wrong._

_Fred's brow furrowed as her face became obscure. "What's the matter, Rosie?" he asked._

"_Something's not right, Fred," she whispered. The sun had not yet returned. She rose, gathering Lynn in one arm and tucking her into her robe. She gripped her wand tightly underneath her cloak. Fred stood as well, concern etched on his face._

_At that moment, a dark figure rose up behind him. Cackling laughter echoed as Rosie instinctively lunged forward, knocking the table to the ground with a clatter._

_--_

"Fred!" she cried, sitting bolt upright. Her bed sheets were soaked with sweat. Only a dream, it was just a dream. It had been so real, everything from the taste of the ice cream to the warmth of the sunshine on her face. Now she found herself in the darkness of the Ravenclaw girl's dormitory, feeling terribly alone. She hugged herself, listening for a moment to the steady, even breathing of her fellow Ravenclaws. None of them had been awakened by her outburst.

Shaken, she tiptoed down to the common room and curled up in her favorite armchair with a blanket and a glass of water. Her mouth was dry with unexplainable fear. Every shadow suddenly seemed menacing; every sound could be another horror awaiting her. Rosie took a sip of water and gazed out the window. It must have been close to four in the morning. She sank further into the armchair and wished for sleep.

--

"Rosie?" Meredith called to her softly. Wake up, dearest," she whispered, gently shaking Rosie's shoulder. At first everything was a bright blur, but when Rosie's eyes opened fully, sunlight was streaming through the panoramic window of Ravenclaw tower, illuminating Meredith's pale blonde hair.

"What time is it?" Rosie croaked blearily. Meredith coaxed her up, smiling faintly.

"It's nearly half past nine, silly. You're going to miss breakfast if you don't get dressed soon," she answered. "Now hop to it, there's a good girl."

With the help of Meredith, Rosie dressed and went down to the Great Hall, where the noise helped her waken more fully. Indeed, much of the breakfast assortment had fast disappeared, but Meredith had been kind enough to load a heaping plate for Rosie.

Muttering her thanks, she tucked in, glad for the distraction. Her too-real dream kept drifting across her mind. The eeriest part was that the dark shape seemed familiar. Somewhere, she had heard that deep, crazed laughter.

"Morning, love!" Fred boomed, jolting Rosie from her thoughts. "My, you eat like you've been starved or something!" he joked. Rosie smiled ruefully as he wrapped his arms around her from behind and planted a kiss on her temple.

"Do you know what today is?" he asked slyly.

"Yes," she answered. "Today is the day you're mine again," she giggled.

"Well technically," mused Fred, lifting her suddenly into his arms, "I always belonged to you, for you see," his voice dropped to a whisper, "you've stolen my heart."

Rosie blushed as he smiled down at her. A few people whistled and catcalled. She laughed nervously, her heart pounding in her chest. What was he up to?

Her answer came in the form of a kiss that swept her away almost as completely as the one at the Yule Ball. The Hall erupted in cheers and whistles as she kissed him back, despite how red her face became. For once, she didn't care that so many people were watching; Fred was all that existed.

It seemed like an eternity passed before Rosie found herself on Earth again. She stood before Fred, looking up at him with the largest smile on her face. "Cheeky bastard," she said. Fred winked and embraced her.

"I can live with that," he replied. Rosie sighed against his chest. It was great to be back in his arms once more. "Say, isn't your birthday coming up?" he asked, giving her a knowing grin. Rosie's face went blank for a moment as she recalled the date. It was May the twenty-eighth, and her birthday was June the seventh, so there were ten days until Rosie's sixteenth birthday.

"Yes, my birthday's in a little more than a week… why do you ask?" she replied, puzzled. It was a little early to be asking about it in Rosie's opinion.

"Well, I think I know just the thing for you," he said mysteriously. Rosie cocked her head, eyebrows knit in confusion.

"You have plenty of time, Fred… you don't even need to get me anything."

"Nonsense! Though I will admit it will be a bit of a challenge to top that prank of yours."

Rosie laughed as he winked roguishly at her. "I'd rather not be pranked if you don't mind."

"Yeah, I've got something much better than that."

Rosie smiled, though her eyes betrayed her suspicion. "I don't know if I should be excited or afraid."

Fred's eyes twinkled. "Fear not, my dear… it should be quite exciting.

Rosie laughed, deciding she'd leave it at that.


	22. Sweet Sixteen

**AUTHOR'S NOTE! PLEASE READ!** Hello my readers!!! I know, it's be over a YEAR since I have updated this story! I cannot apologize to all of you enough for being such a lazy bum, but my inspiration completely dropped off. College, work, and a boyfriend have also been taking up a lot of my time, not to mention time I've spent with AKissBeforeDying here on Fanfiction. Anyhow, what you see here is the last of what I wrote before writer's block crippled me. I have started the next chapter--which will most likely be the end of the story, but never fear! I do plan on writing a little bit more once it is "finished." Again, I am so, so, sorry to have kept you all waiting! I hope this chapter is at least up to par. Look out for another update in possibly a few weeks. You all have my deepest gratitude for sticking with me through this story, especially those who have been waiting this long for an update so faithfully. I wish I could give all of you a hug and gush about how honored I am that you've come this far with me. Please enjoy this chapter!!!

ALSO, PLEASE NOTE THE FOLLOWING:** _If you are going to continue reading/watching this story, please note that I am going to be changing my Pen Name. My Pen Name is no longer going to be pokichan. I have opted for a much more professional name, so if you see this or any of my other stories under a different name, please do not panic and think someone is impersonating me, or that someone has stolen my work. It's only a name change. _**

* * *

"Just a _teeny _hint?" Rosie pleaded. Fred shook his head for the umpteenth time.

"Sorry love, it'd ruin the surprise," he assured her. He squeezed her shoulder. Rosie pouted, sticking out her bottom lip and folding her arms. Fred chuckled and kissed her cheek. They sat nestled on one side of a corridor near the kitchens, where it was pleasantly warm and cozy. The bench they occupied was not very comfortable, but for Rosie, she only cared about snuggling closer to Fred. Earlier, they had thought about sneaking off to the Quidditch pitch to do some flying, but with the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament drawing near, staff could be seen almost everywhere, hurrying to make final adjustments for the competition.

"…Hey, Fred," Rosie whispered after a moment. He toyed with a lock of her hair and kissed her crown.

"Mm?" he answered softly. Rosie lifted her head and kissed the underside of his chin. He cleared his throat and his neck grew very red. A sensitive spot, perhaps? Rosie giggled and decided not to press into it any further.

"I was thinking…" she began, her tone a little sly and playful. Fred looked down at her and smirked, raising an eyebrow.

"Rosetta Harper, thinking? This can't be a good sign," he joked. "Pray, tell me, what sort of fiendish ideas are circulating in that genius brain of yours?"

Rosie fidgeted a little, slightly nervous. "Well, since my birthday is coming up, and it'll be the first time I'm sharing it with you, I'd really like it to, er… go out with a bang, so to speak."

Fred blinked, his face going blank for a moment. His expression then shifted to one of disbelief, his eyes going wide and his face turning red. Rosie saw the shift and shook her head wildly, her cheeks burning a bright scarlet color.

"N-no, no, it's nothing like that!" she stammered. "I was just thinking that maybe… we could pull a prank on someone, just you and me. I… I know you love playing practical jokes and… and I'd like to be a part of that, to… to be a little closer to you."

Fred scratched the back of his head. "Oh, all right then," he said, his tone awkward. "Who do you have in mind, love?"

Rosie paused for a moment. She took a deep breath. What she was about to ask was no small thing.

"…Professor Snape."

There was a long pause.

Despite Rosie's expectations, Fred's face split into a mischievous grin. "Really now?" he laughed. "That's a lofty goal, my dear, but then again…" His eyes twinkled. "I do love a challenge."

Rosie's eyes lit up with excitement. "Fantastic! When shall we begin?"

Fred chuckled. "As soon as possible."

They went into action immediately. Each bounced ideas off the other. Fred nodded confidently whenever Rosie came up with a clever idea, and Rosie giggled when Fred thought up a hideous trick to add to Snape's misery. It would be a fine way to kick off her birthday. It would also distract Rosie from her curiosity about Fred's designs for her.

She was greatly surprised at how well she and Fred worked together. Over the course of three days, they pieced together the perfect prank, one that was sure to infuriate the snide Potions master. They could hardly wait to set the plan into motion.

When Rosie's birthday, the twentieth of May, finally arrived, the girl woke bright and early. She rushed down the stairs to the common room. On her favorite armchair sat a few parcels wrapped in brightly colored paper and bows. It was a tradition the Harper family had practiced for generations, almost like Muggle Christmases. Over the years Meredith had followed along with the tradition, and Rosie did spy a few small packages from her amidst the bundle from her family.

As was her nature, Rosie first separated the gifts into piles according to the sender, mostly so she knew what to write in her subsequent thank you cards. As usual, her mother had spoiled her with a gift Rosie thought to be much too expensive—an enchanted music box.

It resembled a richly decorated vanity with polished and painted carvings of roses and vines as well as beauty products set with semiprecious gemstones. Curious, Rosie turned it on its side to wind the mechanisms within. Once finished, she placed it on the floor and waited a moment.

Slowly the top of the vanity opened and light shot upward. A hologram of her mother appeared. No music played, but the transparent specter of her mother beamed.

"Hello, dear," the slightly fuzzy image voiced. The sound was grainy, as though recorded on a Muggle tape. "I'm sure you must be wondering why there isn't any music playing," she went on.

Rosie rolled her eyes and smiled at her mother's recorded laugh. It was reminiscent of the laughter one hears when they know a very splendid joke. Still, Rosie sat cross-legged on the floor and leaned toward the music box, listening intently.

"This box is very special," her mother continued. ""By tapping it with your wand, you can record whatever you like, and afterwards you may add music to play in the background. Of course, you know how to do that, it's a simple charm. Also, this box will play more than just one recorded event. You can record up to a hundred and cycle through them by tapping the handles on the vanity. If you want to remove a recording, you need only select it and tap the hair brush. Pick a song and record something you enjoy! Oh, I almost forgot—you can record memories as well; it's something of a Pensieve." With a chuckle and a wave, Rosie's holographic mother faded away and the vanity closed.

For a moment Rosie was silent, staring in wonder at the contraption. She knew immediately the memory she would record. Putting her wand to her temple, she drew a silvery thread from her memories. It floated down into the box, soon joined by a host of other memories that rushed to her. Most of her cherished memories found their way safely into the rosewood box—the Yule Ball, special moments she had shared with Meredith, family ordeals, and still more were times of personal reflection. As the minutes ticked by, fewer important memories came to her, but one in particular nagged at her: the too-real dream. She decided to place it in the box as well, as an afterthought. Then she turned to the rest of her packages.

Ben had sent her a lovely illustrated book about dragons: each moving and roaring illustration more beautiful than the last. Lawrence, her second eldest brother, in his seventh year, had purchased a Sneakoscope, some Fizzing Whizbees, and a handy bracelet==it told the time across the smooth, flat surface as well as the date, important event she should know about, and the weather forecast, all at the tap of a wand. Rosie smiled and rolled her eyes. Just because Lawrence was going into Magical Law Enforcement did not mean that he had to get her practical gifts. Travis, her youngest brother, a year behind Rosie but only a month her junior, gave her a gift that made her giggle. Although it was merely a trick wand from Zonko's, it exploded into a plush unicorn with abnormally proportioned eyes.

Rosie stood up and admired her gifts with appreciation. She made a mental note to write each of them a letter of thanks, particularly her mother and father for the memory box. However, she did have class to attend.

--

"Good morning, love," Fred murmured into Rosie's ear as she plopped down into her seat at the Ravenclaw table. She felt his lips brush her neck for a moment and couldn't help but blush and giggle.

"Good morning, Fred," she replied with a shy smile.

"Happy birthday," the charming redhead added in a soft undertone. He kissed Rosie's cheek and she thanked him before he headed off to the Gryffindor table. She treasured the sensation Fred left on her cheek with his kiss—immediately after breakfast, she would be sitting in the dungeons with Snape, and Fred would be in a separate class altogether. If everything didn't go as planned…

No, Rosie would not think those kinds of thoughts that day. It was her birthday, after all, and she would enjoy it no matter what. She stared resolutely at her plate of eggs, picked up her fork and tucked in. She would need all the energy she could get.

--

The chalkboard behind the infamous Professor Snape's desk was filled with instructions when Rosie entered the chilly, dim chamber. A few overeager Slytherins already had their cauldrons set over flickering embers. However, the Potions master was nowhere in sight. As the clock ticked away, making him late for his own class, hushed whispers crept into the silence. What could have happened? Where was the scowling, hook-nosed, ebon-clad man?

Their answer came in the form of a curious dripping noise ten minutes later. The heavy wooden door burst open loudly as the man himself entered. His eyes burned with rage directed far beyond the classroom. A few students dared to titter, Rosie among them. The source of laughter was quite obvious.

Yogurt looked quite becoming on Severus.

A milky sheen covered every inch of Snape's clothing. Bits of fruit even clung to his already greasy hair. Rosie had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing out loud. Stage one was a success: Fred had managed to coerce Peeves into dumping a bucket of slightly spoiled yogurt onto Snape when he least expected it. It seemed that a simple wave of the wand couldn't clean it, either. He would have to clean everything manually, just like they planned. Now Rosie could conduct stage two.

As the irate Professor finally took notice of his students and waved his wand to rid himself of the mess—more out of frustration than anything else—Rosie stood up.

"Professor—" she began as politely as possible, but he was still too angry to let her finish.

"Quiet, Miss Harper," he snarled, stalking to the podium near his desk. However, as he was just about to reach it, he slipped and fell backward onto the floor with a comical squeaking and squelching noise.

This time, there was no stopping the ensuing riot of laughter.

Rosie surreptitiously moved her arm, tucking her wand back into her sleeve; she couldn't help but feel smug.

"SILENCE!" roared Snape as he jumped back to his feet, almost snarling. Not a peep was heard after that. Meredith nudged Rosie in congratulations as the Professor began that day's lesson, but not before he enchanted some rags to clean himself. The potion he assigned was tedious and grueling, certain to keep them all occupied. Still, Rosie would not be deterred.

She and the rest of the students worked quietly for the next hour. Hot a sound penetrated the collective silence save for the occasional bubble and hiss of a cauldron as ingredients were added and stirred. Professor Snape took to prowling each row of desks, as though seeking out the prankster that had so embarrassed him. Under his scrutinizing gaze, Rosie felt slightly tense, but he did not pause at her cauldron, nor give any sign that he suspected her. In fact, he studied Meredith more closely. Perhaps it was due to her more outgoing and less innocent attitude, but Rosie would never know.

Suddenly, several loud knocks sounded on the door.

Cursing under his breath, the proud, succinct, suspicious Snape whirled away from a petrified Ravenclaw and stalked to the door. He yanked it open with a snarl.

"Yes?" he hissed through clenched teeth. As he looked down his hooked nose at the visitor, his lip curled. He was a Hufflepuff with a round face, thick spectacles, mousy hair, and more freckles than the Weasley twins put together. He was also quite fat—reminiscent of a penguin.

"S-sir," gasped the boy, "I am in need of a potion—" he went on, but Snape scoffed.

"Well of course you do, why else would you be interrupting my class? Get on with it," he snapped, not in the mood for chitchat.

The boy opened his mouth to continue, but then his hand flew to his face. Gradually, his ruddy visage paled, turning a disturbing green color. He stumbled forward and without so much as a warning, vomited all over the Potion master's front.

With a cry of a revulsion, Snape stepped back and demanded, "One of you take this boy to the hospital wing!" He did not need to voice that his patience was at an end. Sensing his peaking fury, Rosie shot up from her seat as Snape turned and marched back into the classroom, waving his wand to clear the mess from his robes. However, she being in the front row, and her enthusiasm to assist the poor boy being so great, she upset her cauldron. Its contents splashed and sloshed, struck Snape in the face, and issued a foul smelling smoke.

"Oh, no! Professor!!" Rosie cried, raising her wand, but he flailed blindly and roared:

"OUT! GET OUT!"

"Just let me—" Rosie pleaded, and she waved her wand.

Suddenly, the Potions master did not seem so intimidating, especially considering that he was standing there in his underwear.

There was a moment of silence.

The uproarious laughter that ensued drowned out the greasy Professor's shrieks, and Rosie took advantage of the temporary chaos and fled the classroom, giggling like mad.

The fat Hufflepuff boy jogged beside her, a huge grin on his face. "How'd I do?" he asked.

"Lovely, Terrence," Rosie congratulated. "You were very brave. Those Skiving Snackboxes are pretty useful, huh?" she giggled.

They continued on for several minutes, and soon they reached Gryffindor Tower. When they arrived at a statue of a humpbacked wizard, Terrence bade her farewell and bustled away. Rosie giggled to herself and leaned on the statue to catch her breath.

Warm arms pulled her away, ever so gently.

"Happy birthday, love," Fred whispered in her ear. He kissed her temple and held her tightly against his chest. Rosie could have melted against the heat of his strong, warm body.

Thank you," Rosie breathed, after a moment of basking in the glory of his presence. She smiled and turned to face him. "Everything went beautifully, and it—"

Any further explanation was lost, because Fred pulled Rosie into a warm, loving kiss. Somehow, despite the sudden weakening in her knees, Rosie stayed upright, probably because she gripped Fred so tightly.

She did not remember when it happened, but when the world stopped spinning, Rosie became aware of a slight weight around her neck. Fred smiled down at her, his eyes twinkling. "Just a little something from me," he murmured.

Rosie looked down and lifted a necklace the hung almost to her bosom. The chain was composed of metal crafted into intertwining vines, emerald green in color. The pendant was a crimson red rose cut from what seemed to be a ruby. It sparkled in Rosie's pale hands and then began to glow with a soft pink light.

"Oh, Fred, it's lovely!" she sighed, unable to keep from smiling. "Thank you so much, you didn't have to—"

"Shh," he chided. "It's a rose for a rose. My rose. It will only glow when you're as happy as you are now." He smiled as she blushed. "Happy birthday, Rosie… I love you."

The rose glowed so brightly that it illuminated Rosie's face. "I… I love you too, Fred," she replied, her eyes shining.

Rosie hugged him tightly; Fred could not have pulled away, even if he wanted to. It was the best birthday Rosie had ever had—a truly sweet sixteen.

* * *

This chapter is dedicated to one of my best friends, AKissBeforeDying, for showing continuing enthusiasm for this story, and also for sharing the same love I have for Fred Weasley. I must also thank her for the wonderful screenshot she sent me of Fred and George from the Half Blood Prince movie. It is currently my background on my laptop.

This chapter is also dedicated to everyone who has ever known love, whether they have given it, received it, or wished for it. Love is a beautiful, ever-changing thing, not meant to be understood, approved of, or disapproved of by anyone.

And of course, I must dedicate this chapter to all my readers, reviewers, and friends, that have kept me writing all these years. Thank you!!!


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